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TRIALS AND PERSECUTIONS

OF

Miss EDITH O'GORMAN,

OTHERWISE SISTER TERESA DE CHANTAL,

OP

ST. JOSEPH'S CONVENT,

HUDSON CITY, N. J.

-4*-

"Written t>y Herself,WITH AN APPENDIX BY THE PUBLISHERS.

•«•

CONNECTICUT PUBLISHING CO., HARTFORD, CONN.

WESTERN PUBLISHING CO., CINCINNATI, O., AND CHICAGO, ILL.

p. A. HUTCHINSON & CO., ST. LOUIS, MO.

P. R. RANDALL, PORT HOPE, CANADA.

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Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1871,

By Connecticut Publishing Company,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

£ f I <& £~*

Printedby WILLIAM H. LOCKWOOD.

CASE, LOCKWOOD & BRAINABD, Electrotyper,

BMMOOMO, Com. BiRirox, cons.

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-1

nsTTEODUOTOET NOTE.

A remarkable experience and wonderful success are here

narrated. The author of this book had suffered great wrongs

at the hands of a powerful Ecclesiastical hierarchy. Here she

has spent most of her convent life. Here, a little more than a

year ago, penniless, friendless, almost hopeless, she came to

tell the story of her sufferings, and to unmask the errors and

evils of the Romish Church. With earnest purpose, manifest

sincerity and conscientious motives, she addressed herself to a

task for which but few would have had sufficient courage.

Public attention was immediately awakened, and an intense

public interest aroused in behalf of a woman who simply

claimed the right to tell the story of her wrongs, and to vindi-

cate herself against the unjust aspersions of her enemies.

This story is here rehearsed for wider dissemination among

the American public. As a brief history of a checkered and

eventful life, as a significant protest against a church which

VI

U

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

had nourished and yet misguided her. The book is deserving

of an extended circulation and careful perusal

It affords me pleasure to speak of the high regard in which

the author is held in this city—to commend her volume to the

favor of the public, and to express the hope that her candid

story may fulfil its mission.

Respectfully,

Henry A. Cordo,

Pastor of the North Baptist Church,

Jersey City, N. J.

CONTENTS.

Preface, • •

CHAP.

I. My Departure from Home,....II. St. Elizabeth's Convent, Madison, N. J.,

III. Three Months Experience as a Candidate,

IV. Rules and Daily Routine of the Sisters,

V. The Vow of Poverty, ....VI. Vows of Chastity and Obedience, .

VII. A Mission to St. Joseph's Orphan Asylum, in

Paterson, N. J.,

VIII. Continuation of my Experience in Paterson,

IX. Some additional examples of cruelty to the

Orphans,

X. The Convent School System, .

XI. My Sister Visits me in Paterson,

XII. My Profession and Mission to Hudson City, .

XIII. Sister Agnes, she leaves the Convent, .

XIV. Insanity of Sister Virginia, and Rebellion of

Sister Ann Elizabeth,

XV. Rev. Wm. M. Walsh,

XVI. My Brother Visits me in Hudson City, .

XVII. My Escape,

XVIII. Sick among Strangers,

XIX. My Voyage to Ireland,

XX. Alone in a Foreign Land : My return, . .

XXI. The Arrest of Father Walsh, . * . .

PAGE.

3

7

17

22

27

32

36

41

49

57

65

70

75

82

86

92

99

106

117

125

130

135

CONTENTS.

XXII. Abduction to the Convent of Good Shepherd, 163

XXIII. My Journey on foot from Baltimore to Phil-

adelphia, 167

XXIV. My Conversion, 174

XXV. My Work, 181

XXVI. The Madison Eiot and attempted Assassina-

tion, 196

XXVII. The efforts to silence me by unfoundedslander, 204

XXVIII. God Blesses my work in the Conversion of

many, 211

XXIX. Falsehood Unmasked, 216

XXX. My Marriage, .232XXXI. Conclusion, 236

Appendix, * • 243

PREFACE.

I do not solicit the attention of the public for the purpose of

exciting sympathy or seeking redress. Sympathy, though

grateful, can do little to repair misfortunes, or to redress

some wrongs ; as for vengeance, if it be proper to consider it

at all, it must be left with Him who has said, that it is His,

and that " He will repay.'* I write because I feel that I ought

not to be—nay, cannot be silent, knowing what I personally do

of the wrongs and errors incident to the Romish system of

religion ; and knowing also that the truth will never be given

to the public except by those who can write as I can, from per-

sonal experience and positive knowledge.

In laying this book before the public, I am guided by truth.

I do not make a single statement which can be refuted. I give

names, dates, and facts, challenging contradiction. My object

is purely charitable. I wish to enlighten the blind, deluded,

and superstitious Catholics with reference to the errors of their

religion, and the unnatural discipline, and pernicious influence

of the conventual life ; and al>o to arouse the lukewarm, indif-

ferent and unsuspecting among Protestants whose daughters may

be attendants of some convent school, where they are being

enticed from them through the intrigues and cunning of Jesuits

and Sisters of Charity, who are adepts in beguiling unstable

IV PREFACE,

hearts through the empty, theatrical, and alluring ceremonies

of a religion which has a peculiar charm for children and weak

minds, and for all who live according to the senses—not the spirit.

I have also truthfully detailed my own bitter experience, so

replete with persecution and sorrow, that it will cause many to

exclaim, " Is it possible that one woman can have endured

such numerous and severe trials ?" Few indeed, have tasted

sorrow like unto mine ; and I now bless " the Hand that

chasteneth," for in no other way could I be cleansed from the

dross of Catholic superstition, than by the purifying furnace

of tribulation. Through the gate of suffering I have come

out of bondage, and entered into the blessed " liberty of the

children of God." Praise be to His holy name forever ! This

book is my own production, simple and true, and as such, I

trust it will meet the approbation of my readers; and may God

grant that it may be the means of saving one immortal soul

from the slavery of Romanism and the living tomb of convents !

If only one soul should be saved, I shall have accomplished a

noble work!

Edith 0'Gorman.

CHAPTER I.

MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME.

I am the eldest of eight children, and was born in Ireland,

August 20th, 1842, of respectable parents. My mother be-

longs to a high and noble family ; her maiden name was Mar-

garet Byron. In her youth, on account of her great beauty,

she was known as the "Rose" of " Stone Park," her native

place in the County of Roscommon, Ireland. She married

my father against the will of her parents, and came with him

to America in the year 1850, and finally settled in Rhode

Island, where they reside at the present time.

From my infancy, I was carefully instructed by my good

mother, who instilled in my soul a deep reverence for the creed

and traditions of the Roman Catholic faith. I was educated in

Protestant schools, and there bravely confronted every opposi-

tion or reproach offered to my religion. I defended its tenets;

I would have given my life for its preservation, for the defense

of its reputed purity, as I am now willing to brave calumny and

persecution, aye, even death, for the unmasking of its impurity

and errors. I was inclined to prayer and piety from my early

childhood. I longed for something better than the fleeting fol-

(7)

8 MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME.

lies of society, than the empty vanities of a sinful and ungodly

world. "As the hart wearied with the chase, panteth after

cooling waters," so did my soul pant for the life-giving fountain

of Eternal Truth. Earthly pleasures failed to fill the void in

my heart,—indeed, that heart is narrow which can be filled by

aught save the perfect love of God. I sought peace at the

shrine of the Virgin Mary and the Saints, at the Confessional

;

in the confraternities of scapulars and rosaries, but all in vain.

I could find no abiding place in Christ. My senses were

charmed with the imposing forms and ceremonies, the music,

flowers, candles, pictures, and beautiful images, which constitute

the worship of Roman Catholics; but possessing an instructed

intelligence, my soul remained empty. Were I a mere being

of sense, only, I might have been satisfied.

In August, 1861, I was visiting in Newport, R. I. I sought

forgetfulness of religion among the gay and giddy throng in

pursuit of worldly pleasure. But my heart and soul became

disgusted and wearied with the emptiness and vanity of such a

life. I was certainly created to be something more than a

mere votary of fashion and folly. However, a change was

near. The 15th of August is observed as a holy day among

Catholics, for honoring the Assumption of Mary into Heaven.

I attended mass that morning in the beautiful St. Mary's

Church, of Newport ; in the afternoon I went to confession, to

Father J. Hughes, of Hartford, Conn,, who was visiting New-

port at that time for the purpose of assisting Father O'Rielly,

who was then in poor health. In obedience to the teachings

of the Catholic church, which enjoin penitents to disclose to

MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME. i>

their confessor every secret thought, every impulse of their

being, I confided to my confessor the doubts and fears I had

concerning the sufficiency of my religion. I told him I derived

no benefit from my devotions to Mary, nor from frequenting

the Sacraments of Confession and Communion ; that I failed to

find delight or satisfaction in worldly pleasures, etc., and that

I was most unhappy. He advised me, in the most affectionate

manner, to enter a Convent, as it evidently was my vocation,

and the only way in which I could save my soul. He ex-

tolled the vocation of celibacy as the very highest grace that

God could bestow upon His creatures ; telling me I could re-

ceive no greater proof of God's love for me than in being called

to be the bride of His only Son Christ Jesus, and not the bi ide

of a mere sinful creature—man. He pictured the life of a

Nun as the most holy and perfect imitation of the example of

Christ and Mary, assuring me that within the sacred precincts

of the cloister, aided, as I could not fail to be by, the good ex-

ample of my sister nuns, who were in possession of such holy

peace and complete repose as the saints in heaven were enjoying,

I would soar high above the atmosphere of human love, and

would live in the pure light of holiness, and the perfect love of

God. He told me my nature was of such an exalted descrip-

tion that human affection and worldly pursuits would always

fa'.l to supply my craving for happiness, and nothing save a per-

fect consecration of my life to God would secure for me the

heavenly peace for which I was yearning.

He advised me to read the writings of St. Alphonsus Liguori,

especially the " Nun Sanctified." This saint extols virgins

10 MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME.

consecrated to God, and says of all happy states the vocation

of a nun is the most perfect and subliiiie, because their affections

are not fixed on their families, nor on men of the world, nor on

goods of the earth, nor on the dress and vanities of women;

they are unshackled by worldly ties, by subjection to friends or

relatives, and are removed from the noise and tumult of the

" wicked world."

I was then nineteen years of age, an age when the heart is

most susceptible to those impressions which may be called ro-

mantic or sentimental. Naturally possessing an impulsive and

enthusiastic nature, I was filled with a desire to make some

great sacrifice to God ; and I listened with pleasure to the ad-

vice of my confessor. Thenceforth I began to lead a new life;

I would spend most of the day in the church. I took great

delight in self-imposed penances, such as fa ting every day on

one meal, and abstaining from everything that wou'd afford my

physical senses delight. I would remain hours together in

prayer, and often experienced great consolation and ecstacies

-therefrom. In the Confessional I would speak of the visions,

ecstacies and spiritual consolations I experienced in prayer, and

of my great desire of self abnegation. My confessor flattered

me in my delusion, telling me Ihat the Lord had endowed my

soul with His highest gifts, and lie had designed me from all

eternity to become a great saint, " and all visions, ecstacies,

and self-annihilation, came from God, and denoted great sanc-

tity." At the same time he urged me to hasten my entrance

into a Convent, because, if I delayed long in the world, God

would withdraw from me those heavenly gifts.

MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME. 11

As a natural consequence of these false teachings, I soon be-

came puffed up with my own self-righteousness, and was led

to regard myself better than others. And yet I was called

humble. Because hamility was a virtue I tried to acquire itl

by performing certain humiliating acts, such, for instance, as

washing the feet of some filthy mendicant, or performing the

most menial offices of a servant.

I now look back and regret the precious time wasted in the

observances and practices of unprofitable devotions, hurtful in

themselves, inasmuch as they were not performed for the glory

of God, but, on the contrary, for the glory of self. In the true

light of God's grace I can now attribute all the spiritual conso-

lation* and ecstacies I experienced as a Catholic, to self-com-

placency and spiritual pride. I thought I loved God, but it was

self-love actuated me. I thought I was a model of humility,

but I possessed " humility with a hook," continually fishing for

compliments and the good opinions of creatures. I thought I

was blessed with the true light of God; yet I was perfectly

blind, and knew it not. I was taught to think myself a saint,

and all the time I was ignorant of the first rudiments of true

sanctity. However, like all deluded souls, I was not conscious

of my true condition ; I was completely charmed with the nov-

elty of my new experience, and was sincere according to the

light given me ; hence, I firmly resolved to sacrifice my Kfe on

the altar of self-consecration, and sever every human tie which

bound me to the world.

Naturally possessed of strong affections and deep attach-

ments, I endured the greatest pain and angui:-li in sacrificing

12 MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME.»

my home. The love I bore my mother amounted almost to

idolatry, and the thought of a separation from her was death

in itself. How could I leave her, never again to see her dear

face, nor hear her beloved voice? All else 1 could give up,

but my mother, never ! It would break my heart to leave myown dear gentle mother.

This thought of being forever separated f om my beloved

mother, would sometimes fill my soul with doubts and mur-

murings against God. Why could I not love God and arrive

at sanctity, without breaking the holiest of earthly ties ? "Why

had God given me such an affectionate nature, if it was un-

lawful for me to exercise it ? Why must I crush and blight

my life and talents within the gloomy walls of the Cloister ?

Why bury my heart in a living sepulchre ? Why shut out

from myself every object of beauty and love, that the hand of

God had formed ? Was not such a God more an arbitrary

tyrant, than a God of mercy and love ?

I often experienced such rebellious reflections as the above,

and as in duty bound, discovered them to my confessor. Hewould tell me such thoughts were wicked temptations from the

devil, who would fain cheat me of my holy calling and per-

fect devotion to the religious life, by attacking me in the weak-

est point, my ardent affection. My spiritual director (hided

severely my weakness in listening 'or one moment to the Bug*

gestions of the "evil one;' telling me I must choose between

God and my mother. I could not serve both ; and if I made

choice of the latter, I would lose my immortal soul, and be

damned, quoting the passage, " whoever loveth father or

MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME. 13

mother more than me, is not worthy to be my disciple." Myheart seemed torn from my bndy in the fearful struggle I

enduivd before I could consent to give up my earthly mother,

and accept the Virg'n Mary in her place ; however, the salva-

tion of my soul was the one thing necessary, and I must save

it, cost what it might. I made choice of God. The holocaust

to Him should be complete. I thought He required the sac-

rifice, and I made it. " The greater the sacrifice, the greater

the merit." I was so thoroughly imbued with this false idea

of salvation, that I firmly resolved to stifle every natural affec-

tion of my heart, tear asunder every earthly tie, and bid an

eternal farewell to my beloved parents, my darling little

brothers and sisters, and every thing I held sacred and dear,

and to devote my young life to a perpetual crucifixion of the

nature my Creator had given me. Poor slave that I was, in

my blind delusion I could not realize that the merits of

Christ had secured my salvation, independent of my self-im-

posed merits

!

The next difficulty to be surmounted was to gain the con-

sent of my parents, which I at first failed to do. My disposi-

tion being amiable and cheerful, I was generally loved by all

my friends, and more especially by my parents who looked

upon me as the " sunbeam " of their home ; therefore, the

thought of an earthly separation was to them unendurable. In

this difficulty I also had recourse to my Father confessor, who

was the umpire to be consulted on every occasion. The advice

I received from him was, to go without their consent if I failed

to get it. I must despise the counsel and commands of my

14 MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME.

parents in this respect, and embrace the conventual life des-

pite their wishes, because the allegiance I owed to God and

my spiritual guide took the precedence, and I was bound to

follow his advice under penalty committing a " grievous"

sin. He condemned my parents, and called them " agents of

the devil," in trying to rob God of my soul.

]\Iy father, seeing my determination to enter a convent, re-

luctantly gave his consent, comforting himself with the reflec-

tion that I would be numbered with the elect—fighting the

good fin-ht—one of the " chosen few." After one year spent

in prayer and meditation on the important step I was about to

take, the eventful day arrived when I must separate myself

from all I loved on earth, all the happy and clear associations

of my innocent gir'.hood.

• The first of October, 1862, was my last day at home, the

last day spent in the society of my dear parents, my little

brothers and sisters, my beloved associates—the last day of

happiness for weary, weary, years of desolation. I cannot

now recall that day without the deepest emotion. Oh, why

did I first break up the family circle ? Why did I impose

upon myself such a living death ? Why did I not listen to

the voice of my heart, and of reason ? But alas ! it is too late

now to repine, the fiat hath gone forth and can never be

revoked.

I must now take the final farewell of the home circle. All

are there, but in a few moments one will be absent, never

again to take her accustomed place among them. I kneel at

my father's knee to receive his blessing, ere I leave him for-

MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME. 15

ever. Tremblingly and in broken accents he prays God to

bless his child, while the hot tears, dropping like rain upon my

bowed head, as I listen to his prayer, convulse me with an

unspeakable grief.

Once again I lean upon my idolized mother's breast and

listen to the throbbing of that loving and faithful heart, burst-

ing with sorrow as she clasps to her embrace for the last time,

her. first born child. Dear heart, where I had so of en been

pillowed and soothed in childhood, and where girlhood's griefs

had so often been assuaged, shall I never rest there again ?

Farewell, my darling mother! were I being convejed from

you to be buried beneath the earth, I could not be more liter-

ally dead than I must thenceforth be to you and to the world.

Farewell, my little brothers and sisters! I will no longer soothe

and humor your childish fancies, nor lull you to sleep with

your accustomed lullabys. Farewell every dear and familiar

object ! my eyes must rest upon you for the last time. Fare-

well, my beloved associates, and bosom friends ! we will no

longer share each other's joys and griefs. Farewell, to all the

loved ones, and oh, forgive me if I ever wilfully occasioned

you annoyance or pain. Father, mother, brothers, sisters,

forgive all my faults, and pray for me !

All are in sobs and tears.

I at last tear myself from my mother's embrace, and the

last object my eyes rested upon that never-to-be-forgotten night

was the beautiful loving eyes of my grief stricken mother,

looking after me so full of sorrow and tenderness.

Ah, mother, dear mother, better a thousand times for you

16 MY DEPARTURE FROM HOME.

and for me could you have seen me conveyed to the grave,

than to the wrongs and sufferings that awaited me in the liv-

ing tomb of the convent.

The tie is broken. The knot is severed. I am with you

no more.

Farewell home, happiness, mother—all of earth, Farewell

!

\jy&<j

CHAPTER II.

st. Elizabeth's convent, madison, n. j.

St. Elizabeth's Convent is delightfully situated on the Morris

and Essex R. R., nearly midway between the stations of Mad-

ison and Morristown, and commands a beautiful view of the

surrounding country. The main building, formerly known as

" Seton Hall College," is exclusively occupied by the nuns.

The Academy or boarding school for young ladies is a separate

building, as also is " St. Joseph's preparatory College for boys."

The schools there are conducted with consummate skill ; and

with few exceptions the pupils become warmly attached to the

nuns, of whose lives they see only the fair and poetic coloring

which hides from the world the privations, intrigues, and hor-

rors within. Of these schools I will speak more at length in

another chapter. Adjoining the nunnery is a chapel for the

use of nuns and pupils ; attached to this chapel is a beautiful

Gothic cottage, fitted up with many of the appurtenances of

modern luxury, and occupied by the Chaplain and priests.

The grounds are spacious and well regulated. The buildings

are shaded by tall and stately trees, giving to the place the ap-

pearance of an Eden-like retreat.

17

18 st. Elizabeth's convent, madison, n. j.

This community of Sisters of Charity is a branch of Mount

St. Vincent, near Yonkers, N. Y., and was established in the

diocese of New Jersey, by Bishop Bayley, of Newark, in the

year 1859. Among the first of the sisters appointed to the

Newark diocese was sister Mary Xavier, for whom Bishop

Bayley formed a deep attachment, and as a proof of his devo-

tion to her, he granted her the exclusive privilege of reigning

" Mother Superior " for life, notwithstanding it is contrary to

the rules of the order, which forbid superiors to hold office

longer than three years, and then only by vote of the sisters.

However, Mother Xavier, by her shrewdness and dexterity, is

well fitted to fill the office to which she has been appointed.

She is a lady about thirty-five years of age, somewhat below

the medium height, urbane and polished in her manners, and

possessed of a large share of Jesuit strategy and plausibility.

The order of Sisters of Charity was founded by St. Vincent

de Paul, in the year 1633, in France, and introduced into the

United States by Mother E. Seton, in the year 1812, near

Emmettsburg, Md. There is a division among the sisters of

St. Vincent, and the sisters of Mother E. Seton in regard to

rules and dress. The costume of the Sisters of St. Vin-

cent consists of a grey flannel habit clumsily made, and singu-

lar looking " cornet" worn on the head, cut out of white linen

in the form of wings to represent the " dove," and presenting

a very uncouth and repulsive appearance. The Sisters of

Mother E. Seton are attired in a blark woohm habit, with a

cape covering the waist, a white linen collar, tastefully turned

down over the cape ; the face nearly concealed by a black cam-

ST. ELIZABETH'S CONVENT, MADISON, N. J. 19

brie cap, drawn closely around the head, and tied in a neat

bow under the chin. The chaplet of beads, to which is at-

tached a large crucifix, is suspended from the waist nearly to

the feet. The habit of novices is similar to that of the pro-

fessed nuns, with the exception that novices wear brown in-

stead of black. The Sisters of Madison adopt the above dress

of Mother E. Seton.

On the 2d of October, 1862, at 11 A. M., I beheld for the

first time this establishment, this whited sepulchre so fair and

beautiful without, but within full of corruption. I was un-

usually depressed in spirits as I approached that convent prison

in which I was thenceforth to be entombed, and shut out from

the beautiful world. The outward aspect of nature seemed to

pity me ; the heavens were clouded, and the wind sighed

through the trees with the voice of a human mourner. There

was a profound silence about the place, a silence which accord-

ed with the solemn loneliness of my heart still smarting with

the pain of separation from all I loved. Had death stripped

me of every friend or relative on earth, I could not have felt

more bereft, lonely, desolate, and grief stricken than I did that

gloomy Autumn morning, when I stood in the solitude of the

convent grounds. My heart and soul filled with a vague un-

certainty concerning the unnatural discipline enforced within

its walls. I was not wholly ignorant of the obligations required

of me. I knew ere I entered, that I must leave my own will,

judgment, reason, and liberty outside the convent doors, and

subject myself blindly to the guidance of superiors. I was

tempted to turn back from the slavery, hardships, deprivations,

20 st. Elizabeth's convent, madison, n. j.

and austerities of that unnatural life to the liberty, love, warmth

and protection of my father's home ; but I had gone too far, I

had put my hands to the plough, and if I should turn back, I

would not be fit for the " Kingdom of Heaven." I approached

the main entrance and rang the bell. A sad, pensive looking

sister answered my summons at the door, and ushered me into

a spacious and elegantly furnished parlor, where I was received

by Mother Xavier, who in a most gracious and affectionate

manner welcomed me to her "abode of peace." She expressed

herself highly pleased with the refinement of my appearance

and manners, telling me that her " prayer had been answered

in ihe Lord sending me to her, a-> she was very much in need

of educated and accomplished sisters." She portrayed in the

most glowing manner the "blessed advantage of my holy

vocation which called me away from the noisy, sinful world to

the safe and peaceful haven of a religious life in the convent ;"

assuring me I would receive an hundred fold of heavenly gifts

if I would only remain faithful to my vocation, and forget mycountry and my father's house—because it is not sufficient that

the body quit the world, the heart also mu-t quit it and break

off all attachment for it. "All those," said she, "that enter

our holy order must not only consider that they quit father,

mother, kindred, friends, and whatsoever they possess in the

world, but must believe that Jesus Christ addresses them in

these words :" He that hates not father, mother, brothers, sis-

ters, yea and himself, cannot be my disciple."

Oh, blind votaries of a benighted faith ! the only sacrifice our

merciful Saviour requires is a contrite and humble heart, which

st. Elizabeth's convent, madison, n. j. 2\

His true disciples give Him without severing the golden links

wrought by God himself, which can not be broken with impu-

nity, nor cast aside, nor torn asunder, without becoming a chain

of iron pressing upon the bleeding heart, stifling every pure

and spontaneous desire, crushing every lawful and noble affec-

tion, and leaving the heart and soul a dry, barren, desolated

waste, incapable of producing aught save a diseased and noxious

vegetation.

CHAPTER III.

THREE MONTH'S EXPERIENCE AS A CANDIDATE.

I was permitted to rest one week ere I would enter as a

candidate, and during that time I was treated as all visitors are,

with great kindness and affection by the mother and sisters.

At the end of the week, I was stripped of my worldly clothes

and attired in the plain black dress and white muslin cap of

the candidate, and entered upon a probation of three months,

during which time my disposition was studied and tried. I

was sent to work in the dormitories, study halls, refectories,

kitchen and laundry. It is a custom established in all convents

to employ freely, candidates and novices in every species of

toil, and the more repugnant and distasteful any kind of occu-

pation is perceived to be to particular individuals, the more

certainly are they chosen to perform it. Accordingly the can-

didate known to have been most delicately and tenderly nur-

tured, whose hands have never before come in contact with

hard service, is there chosen to perform the most menial offices.

Therefore I was chosen to perform the most distasteful and

laborious work in the convent. The manner of the sisters

changed from the sweet, gentle beings they at first seemed to

22

»

THREE MONTH'S EXPERIENCE AS A CANDIDATE. 2t>

harsh, unkind, tyrannical task-masters. I found among them

every nationality and disposition. I was never accustomed to

unkindness, therefore I was extremely sensitive, and deeply

wounded by the least unkind look or word. I could not please

the sisters, no matter how much I would try. In the dormi-

tories I would labor two or three hours, making beds, etc., and

the sister in charge, without any provocation, would compel

me to undo my work, and then remake them, while she would

remain standing over me, with as much severity in manner and

tone as a slaveholder would display towards a slave. Also in

the kitchen, refectory, and laundry, everything I did the sisters

termed half done, although I was confident that in many re-

spects my work was really well done.

I was one day commanded to scrub with a brush and sand,

on my knees, the large study hall. Such work was new to me,

therefore most laborious. Nevertheless, I performed my task

in the best manner I knew how. Moreover, being of a deli-

cate organization, it was accomplished with great pain and

difficulty, and consequently took me a long time to complete it.

When my task was nearly fmished^the novice mistress appeared

and in a furious manner chided me for my laziness ; snatched

the brush from me with such violence as to tear the skin from

the palm of my hand, at the same time throwing a pail of

water over the hall, and thereby compelling me to re-scrub the

hall in less time than it could usually be performed by a

woman familiar with such work all her life, while the task

was rendered next to unendurable by the pain of my hands,

which were torn and bleeding. This is a small specimen of

2

24 three month's experience as a candidate.

the trials which awaited me: it was but the beginning of sor-

rows.

On another occasion, I was obliged to wash all the pots and

kettles, and scour all the knives and forks in the establishment.

My hands, which were naturally very soft and white, began to

looked soiled and dirty. Having remarked in my simplicity

to Sister Margaret, the housekeeper, " Indeed sister, I am now

ashamed of my hands !" she sharply returned, " Well thin,

I'll be afther making ye more ashamed of 'em." Accordingly

she called me out into another room where a sister was white-

washing the walls, and commanded me to dip my hands into a

pot of hot lime. I hesitated a moment, thinking certainly she

could not mean it ; however I was soon convinced of her ear-

nestness by her harsh tone, " None of yer airs now ; but do

as I bid ye, or I'll tell the mother of ye." I put my hands

down into the hot lime, and she held them there some minutes.

For several weeks my hands were in a most pitiable condi-

tion. The skin would crack and bleed at every movement,

causing me to suffer the most excruciating pain, and yet I was

forced to wash and hang out clothes in the frost and cold of

December, the skin from my bleeding hands often peeling off

and adhering to the frozen garments. Of course they presented a

most shocking appearance, their smoothness and whiteness

gone, they were red, swollen, and chapped. I made no com-

plaint,but bore that penance in silence, remarking to a sympa-

thizing candidate that I justly merited it for being so proud

and vain of my hands.

I was one day appointed to wait on the table in the young

THREE MONTH'S EXPERIENCE AS A CANDIDATE. 25

ladies' refectory, and while there, I conversed a few moments

with a young lady from Providence, who recognized me, and

was acquainted with many of my friends. Sister Cleophas,

the refectorian, overheard me, and the consequence was my

subjection to a public humiliation before the community, being

obliged to throw myself prostrate on the threshold of the

community-room, to be walked over as a door-mat by the

other sisters.

I could give many more instances of singular unkindness

which were visited upon me during the three months candidate-

ship; but those mentioned must for the present suffice, as I have

not time nor space to dwell long on a three month's experience

when in one volume I must relate an experience of ' ix years.

Had I yielded to the temptation, which, during tL^>se three

months, often urged me to fly back to my home from that cruel

life, I would have been saved a great deal of suffering, but 1

am not one of those who, daunted by unforeseen sufferings,

draw back from a purpose but half accomplished. The re-

sults often dawned upon me, but they did not intimidate me.

To every fresh exaction I readily and often cheerfully submit-

tecl. I had become so thoroughly imbued with a spirit of self-

sacrifice that my feet ran rapidly along the thorny road I had

begun to tread, and no penance or mortification appeared too

hard, no amount of self crucifixion too great to be endured

for the atonement of my sins. I was a dupe, a slave, a cap-

tive—a captive under a yoke most cruel and despotic, because

it fetters and binds the affections, and tramples upon the purest

and holiest ties of our social being. Through the false zeal

and blind fervor which then actuated me, I had learned to over-

26 THREE MONTH'S EXPERIENCE AS A CANDIDATE.

come everything which was repugnant to me, and instead of

shrinking from those things naturally offensive to me, I be-

gan to seek them.

My superiors soon became satisfied that my vocation for the

religious life was from God, and the mother held me up to the

novices as a model of simplicity, humility, and docility. Final-

ly, on the 1st of January, 1863, my hair, of which I was

once very proud, was shorn from my head, and I was clothed

in the brown habit of the novice, receiving the name of Sister

Teresa de Chantal, by which I was thenceforth to be known.

Oh, I can never forget the awful solemnity of my feelings on

that never-to-be forgotten New Year's day, when I put off the

old and familiar scenes of life, and embraced the new and un-

familiar austerities of an untried experience. And oh, how

often during that day would come the harrowing reflection

—

Home, and mother, lost, lost to me forever ! Never again to

enter that hallowed circle ! Never acrain behold its loved ones !

^ever again to make the walls ring with my girlish joy ! Never

again to listen to the sweet voice of my mother, as it breathed

its melody in my poor lonely ear ! But this was a vain and

futile shrinking; alas! I had deliberately consigned myself to

an inevitable destiny, and no power can avert it now. I had

as I thought laid myself down forever at the feet of Jesus, to

become his bride, and live like him while on earth, poor, des-

pised, and self-sacrificing; henceforth only subject to the will

of those appointed to rule over me. Little did I dream, when

entering on this dark and tortuous path,whither it would con*

duct me.

CHAPTER IV.

RULES AND DAILY ROUTINE OF THE SISTERS.

Before I proceed further with my experience, I will briefly

portray the daily routine of a Sister of Charity according to the

rules. At the first stroke of the bell, which rings at half-past

four in the morning, every sister rises hastily from her bed, falls

prostrate and kisses the floor. Should a sister fail to rise at

the first sound of the bell, even if ill or indisposed, she is re-

ported to the superior and required to do penance as for a great

crime. Sisters are lauded for reporting the short-comings of

each other. All dress in silence, and make their beds in one

half hour.

At five o'clock another bell is rung, and all repair to the

community-room or chapel, for prayer. After some vocal pray-

ers to the Blessed Virgin, and the invocation of saints, the

morning meditation is then read. The meditation is generally

divided into three points, each point mentioning some subject

of contemplation : such as the suffering of souls in Purgatory,

or some circumstance in the life of the Blessed Virgin, or saints;

and, during Lent, on the passion of Christ—the meditation is

made on the knees, the body being kept erect and motionless.

(27)

28 RULES AND DAILY ROUTINE OF THE SISTERS.

This position, for an hour, is very painful, and it often happens

that many of the sisters faint before the exercise is over. The

meditation concludes with a prayer to the Blessed Virgin in the

following words :" We fly to thy patronage, O holy mother of

God: despise not our petitions in our necessities, but deliver us

from all danger, O ever-glorious and blessed Virgin ! Amen."

The sisters then kiss the floor, and the bell rings for mass. On

the missions sisters attend the parish Church.

After mass the sisters assemble in the refectory for breakfast,

which consists of the best of beefsteak, strong coffee, etc. Silence

is always observed in the refectory during meals, while one of

the sisters reads aloud from the lives of the saints ; the priests,

and superiors, however, give permission for talk and recreation

whenever they feel like it. After breakfast, the sisters repair

to their different duties until nine o'clock, when the bell rings

for school.

At half-past eleven the sisters and pupils kneel in prayer and

examination of conscience until twelve o'clock, when school is

dismissed and dinner served. This is a savory meal of rich

soups, roast meats, all kinds of vegetables, and delicious desserts,

with porter, ale, etc. (Sisters, like the priests, live on the fat

of the land, extorted from the poor Irish people, who would

give their last " Guiskeen " to " His Riverince," or the " How-

ley Sisthers.") After dinner there is recreation or play till

school time, when the sisters again engage in teaching.

At half-past three all say the rosary or beads, litany of the

saints, etc., and school is dismissed ; the sisters then go to the

church or chapel for one-half hour's adoration of the consecrated

RULES AND DAILY ROUTINE OF THE SISTERS. 29

wafer, or, as it is called, the " Blessed Sacrament." Supper is

served at five o'clock.

Any observation or inquiry respecting the health or ab-

sence of sisters is prohibited. The rules wisely forbid the sis-

ters to ask unnecessary questions, and two sisters must not talk

together alone ; there must always De a third party present.

Sisters are permitted to visit the sick and prisoners during

the spare time from their devotional exercises, before or after

school ; however, none must be out after six o'clock in the

evening.

At half-past six the sisters listen to reading from Rodriguez's

" Christian Perfection," or the " Conferences " of St. Vincent

de Paul, until seven o'clock ; they then have recreation for one

hour.

At eight o'clock the bell rings for Chapter, which I will try

to explain as follows : The Superior sits and listens to the accu-

sation or confession of the sisters, which each one makes on her

knees in the following manner, " My sister, I accuse myself of

having walked too heavily ; of making too much noise in shut-

ting the doors ; of giving my eyes too much liberty ; of running

down stairs too fast ; of not rising at the first sound of the bell

in the morning ; of eating between meals ; of kissing a little in-

fant for its beauty. I spent too much time in the parlor ; also

conversed too long with Father so and so. For these and all

other sins, which I cannot call to mind, I humbly beg a penance,

and also request my sisters to point out to me the faults which

they may have observed in me, contrary to our holy rules.'

Penances are then inflicted by the Mistress of Chapter, ac-

SO RULES AND DAILY ROUTINE OF THE SISTERS.

cording as she likes or dislikes the sisters, and if she is actu-

ated by jealousy or envy, she will keep the sisters on their knees

two hours at a time, while she will unjustly accuse them of

faults which they never committed. (Sisters sin with impunity

against the direct commandments of God without reprehension,

while the least insignificant offense against the rules and cus-

toms is punished with severe penances.)

After chapter they join iu vocal prayers from the prayer

book. The lights are then extinguished, and all retire to their

different cells. (Chapter nights sisters retire about 11 o'clock.)

The superior often dispenses with the rules and gives refresh-

ment to the priests, when they often linger until the " wee

sma' hours."

Sisters are obliged to go to confession every Friday to the

parish priest, and every three months they make an extra con-

fession to a Jesuit or Passionist Father. The rite of confession

affords the fathers great freedom to accomplish the purposes

they may entertain. Seated in the Confessional, j^riests are

empowered to propound questions which, from the lips of others,

would be deemed flagrant insults ; kneeling before him, a sister

must listen to and answer questions which fire a pure soul with

indignation, and are calculated to destroy every feeling of mod-

esty, which is the handmaid of chastity and woman's most beau-

tiful gift. Auricular confession in the Roman Catholic Church

is the underlying element which gravitates to the priest as its

centre.

The Confessional is a spiritual Court of Justice ; the priest

is God's legate ; he hears the accusation of the soul in its own

RULES AND DAILY ROUTINE OF THE SISTERS. Si

condemnation ; he is minister plenipotentiary to the Omnipo-

tent. Confession produces deleterious effects upon the soul of

woman through the undue persuasion of priests working upon

her sensitive scrupulosity and the excessive intensity of her

nature. After her mental strength has been drawn to the proper

point, she is irrevocably in his priestly toils. Oh, how much

of this is carried on and buried in the cess-pool of the confes-

sional ! Sisters are obliged to regard the voice of their confes-

sor with as much credence as if Christ himself addressed them;

therefore, no limit is placed to their confidence until they are

victimized by the black-hearted betrayer.

In the Convent, superiors and officers are elected by vote

(one illustration of the woman's ballot-box). There are fac-

tions and party feelings. The defeated party are jealous of the

triumphant ; consequently it becomes a hell of contention, strife

and envy. Sadly do they mistake who think nuns are free

from the evil susceptibilities of human frailty. Neither is it to

be wondered at that many of them become hardened hypocrites

by thus living in direct opposition to the best part of their na-

ture, while many others become the sorrowing victims of Con-

vent wrongs. Oh, how many gifted and talented young minds

are pining away in their prison-cells without the courage to es-

cape such a life of mockery ! In a wild and youthful enthusiasm

they made their choice ; and they must abide by it until death

claims them as his own.

CHAPTER V.

THE VOW OF POVERTY.

I shall now proceed to show the obligations of nuns as

bound by the Vows of Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience. A sis-

ter is bound by the vow of poverty to have no dominion—no

property—no use of any temporal thing—without license from

a superior ; hence, two things necessarily follow : first, that the

vow of poverty obliges a nun not to possess, or take, or receive,

any temporal thing, in order to keep, make use of, or dispose of

it, in any manner whatsoever, without leave of the Superior.

Second, that a sister acts contrary to her vow of poverty, not

only when without permission she takes, retains, or in any man-

ner disposes of anything that belongs to the community, but

likewise when she accepts of anything from persons abroad,

though they be parents or friends, without the consent of the

superiors, from whom it is a sacrilege to conceal anything;

therefore no limit is placed to the despotism of superiors who

selfishly monopolize all things for themselves and the priests.

A sister commits a most grievous sin if she violates the most

trivial obligation of her Vow of Poverty ; for instance, if a sis-

ter, without leave of a superior, should give to another a pic-

(32)

THE VOW OF POVERTY. oO

til re, book, flower, pin, or needle, she would sin mortally; be-

cause the act of giving it away would show she had been pro-

prietor of it. Neither can a sister, without license, take a book

out of the library, or anything out of the wardrobe, refectory,

or anv other place, without acting in direct opposition to the

vow of poverty. If a friend should send to a sister any deli-

cacy, or any memento of friendship, the superior will take it

from her and give it to another ; for it is as much for one as

another, and every member of the community may claim it

equally. St. Austin says, in relation to the vow of poverty, as

observed by religious orders, " If any one should have anything

given him and he should conceal it from his superior, he is

guilty of theft." St. Basil is of the same opinion when he says,

" For a religious to possess anything as an individual, without

the superior's consent, is theft." Hence, as taught by the most

eminent doctors of the Catholic Church, it is clear that a sister

who receives or keeps anything in private is guilty of theft and

sacrilege.

In order to have complete control over the beclouded minds

of subjects,wily superiors will draw on their fears and imagina-

tions by relating frightful examples which God made of those

religieases who violated their vows. In order to illustrate the

ignorance and blind superstition of Catholic sisters, I will select

a few examples from the " Christian Perfection," of Alphonsus

Rodriguez, Spanish Jesuit, which is daily read to Sisters of

Charity and Jesuits. Rodriguez says, " We read in the chron-

icles of St. Francis that there was a brother in one of the Con-

vents of his order who knew how to read a little, and, desirous

34 THE VOW OF POVERTY.

to learn more, found means of procuring himself a Psalter. But

as St. Francis' rule prohibited all lay-brothers to learn to read,

the father guardian, understanding he had got this book, asked

him for it. He answered that he had it not ; the guardian

pressed him to tell where he had put it, and showed him that

to live proprietor of anything was to live in a continual breach

of his vows ; yet the brother would not hearken to what he

said, nor obey him. Not long after this he fell dangerously

sick, and the guardian, for fear he should die in that state, com-

manded him, in virtue of holy obedience, to restore the book or

tell him where he had hid it ; but this unhappy man, being

hardened in his sin, died without declaring anything. The

night after he was buried, when the sacristan rang to matins, he

saw a frightful ghost coming suddenly towards him ; and hearing

a melancholy, mournful voice, without being able to understand

anything distinctly, he was seized with such fear that he fell down

as if dead. The religious, having heard the first peal of matins,

wondered why the bell did not ring again ; and, after having

waited a little they went to the church and found the sacristan

lying along as a dead man, who, coming to himself, told them

what had happened. After they had begun to sing matins, the

game ghost appeared again, crying and howling out lamentably,

but did not utter any word so clearly as to be understood. The

guardian, to encourage his religieus who seemed very much af-

frighted, commanded the spirit in the name of God to tell who

he was, and what he wanted there. To whom it replied, I am

the lay-brother whom you buried yesterday. Then the guard-

ian asked him if he stood in need of the prayers of the religieus ?

THE VOW OF POVERTY. 35

to whom he answered, no, for they could do him no good, as he

was eternally damned on account of the book which he had

kept in his possession at the hour of his death. Since, there-

fore, replied the guardian, we cannot do you any service, I com-

mand you, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to depart

hence immediately, and to return no more to disturb us. These

words were scarcely uttered when the ghost disappeared and

was never seen after."

Examples like the above are daily quoted from the writings

of so-called saints, calculated to engender the most rank isnor-

ance and superstition. Oh, what duplicity is here practised by

those in authority upon the darkened minds of their unfortunate

dupes, who accept these lying legends with ixs much avidity as

a prattling little child accepts the fables of the "Arabian

Nights."

f

CHAPTER VI.

VOWS OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE.

The two vows known as Chastity and Obedience will doubt-

less prove startling to those to whom Jesuitical casuistry and

doctrine are unknown pursuits of study. A sister breaks the

vow of chastity by looking a man in the face ; she must not

raise her eyes when speaking to one of the opposite sex ; she

must not touch a sister's hand, or habit, or allow herself to be

touched by another. If allowed to see a father or brother, she

cannot take his hand ; she must renounce all curiosity, never

look around her, nor through a window, nor toward a door

when opened to see who enters. She must walk in the cloister

and street with down-cast eyes, never showing a sign of recog-

nition to an acquaintance.

Should a pupil linger beside a sister longer than is necessary,

the sister is reported to the superior as being too familiar with

the children. On account of my natural cheerfulness of char-

acter I was a particular favorite with the children and scholars

in general, consequently my pupils were very affectionate to-

ward me, often manifesting their love by taking my hand, en-

circling my waist, sitting at my feet, kissing my habit, etc.,

(36)

VOWS OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE. 37

whereupon I would be reported as guilty of great impropriety,

because I would venture to show any affection toward some

gentle girl whose sunny smile would cheer my sad and isolated

heart, which seemed perishing for love and sympathy. I was

thus forced to recoil from their innocent demonstrations of love

as from a serpent's touch, which, if I failed to do, I would be

reported by the spies of the community who are ever on the

alert.

Should a sister's thoughts go out into the world, or should

her mind overleap prescribed limits, especially with reference

to a priest, she must make known that thought at the Confes-

sional. In other words, should a sister fall in love with a priest

she is bound to tell him of it, and obtain his advice about it.

Should a sister, on a mission, entertain an affection for a priest,

she can inform the superior, and ask for a change of place.

A sister is bound to accuse herself of all things relating to

chastity ; must disclose any temptation, nay, less than that, a

dream, a vision against purity must be minutely detailed to the

confessor. Here note the infamous craft of these regulations

:

A young girl being bound by her rules to disclose every im-

pulse of her nature to her confessor,—the priest thus informed

can take advantage of her as he may feel inclined. Sometimes

policy will induce him to express a i holy horror at the offense

with a view to exalting his sanctity, especially if he have an

aversion for the penitent, or should deem her an unsuitable

subject for his purposes. On the other hand, should his evil

heart suggest to him the moral destruction of this sister, how

great the facility he possesses for its accomplishment. In the

38 VOWS OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE.

book of the "Conferences," St. Vincent directs that a priest

shall not be permitted to enter the apartments of the sisters^

The devil, he remarks, "is always at work, and even angels

have fallen ;" and yet the novices sleep in cells without doors.

It is also forbidden that a sister should see a priest alone in the

parlor ; neither is it allowed that she should visit a priest alone;

yet she may remain at the Confessional for any length of time

alone with her confessor ; and she may confess to him in his

own room in case of his indisposition. The priests often enter

the rooms of the superiors, and remain there for a considerable

time ; nor is any one permitted to open the door, or enter the

room during their stay. When a priest enters the room of a

superior, or officer, should a private sister be present at the

time, she is told to withdraw at once j nor is any one allowed

to enter while he remains.

Various injunctions and examples, as the following, are daily

read to the sisters. St. Alphonsus Liguori says, " a deliberate

glance at a person of a different sex, enkindles an infernal spark

which damns the soul." St. Clara would never look in the face

of a man. She was greatly afflicted because she once involun-

tarily saw the countenance of a priest. (There are not many

St. Claras in the convents of the nineteenth century !) It is

related of St. Arsenius, that a noble lady went to visit him in

the desert to beg of him to recommend her to God. When this

saint perceived that his visitor was a woman, he turned away

from her. She then said to him, "Arsenius, since you will

neither see nor hear me, at least remember me in your pray-

VOWS OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCE. '69

ers." " No !" replied the saint, " but I will beg of God to

make me forget you, and nevermore to think of you."

By the vow of Obedience, a sister is required to give up not

only her will but also her judgment and reason. Her superior,

a woman oftentimes of inferior intellect, ignorant, superstitious,

and domineering, cannot be addressed except on the knees of

the sister ; she must kneel at her feet, and listen to her com-

mands as coming from the mouth of God. A sister must obey

promptly the first sound of the bell which calls them to the dif-

ferent exercises of the day and night, and instantly drop every-

thing she is engaged in. Even if writing she must leave a let-

ter half formed. A sister must obey blindly, i. e., obey without

reasoning on any point, and submit will and understanding to a

superior; therefore, a sister must submit indiscriminately to

everything commanded, though that which is commanded should

even be criminal. This obedience is called perfect because it

obeys without discussion or examination ; hence, a sister in the

observance of obedience must be as a dead body which sees not,

answers not, complains not, nor has any perception ; so a sister

must have no eyes to observe curiously her superior's actions

;

must make no reply to the prescriptions of obedience, no matter

whether they are criminal, repulsive, or absurd. A sister must

obey as if she had no feeling, accordingly she must be in the

hands of superiors like a staff which is taken in the hands to

walk with. A staff goes wherever it is carried ; it has no mo-

tion but what it receives from the hand that controls it. Asister must be the same ; she gives herself into the hands of

her superiors, to do with as they like. When a sister receives

40 VOWS OF CHASTITY AND OBEDIENCK.

a command from her superior, or confessor, she is taught to be-

lieve that she is more certain of doing the will of God in obey-

ing their orders than if an angel came down from heaven to

manifest His will to her. Her rule says, that obedience is the

only sure way that leads to salvation. The vow of obedience

is supreme—the voice of the superior, the voice of God ; there-

fore, if any command clashes with the vow of chastity, or any

other obligation, the vow of obedience must have the su-

premacy.

A sister is in the greatest danger of moral death who thus

gives herself to the guidance of passive and blind obedience.

Her conscience is stifled ; she must not trouble herself about

the sin or its consequences, when she is bound to think the vow

of obedience the only way to heaven. Oh, what blasphemy!

what delusion ! May the blessed light of the Son of God shine

upon their poor misguided souls, and let fall from their dark-

ened eyes the scales of error, and give them to know and feel

that Jesus is the only way, the truth, and the life. Such is the

earnest prayer of my heart for all deluded children of supersti-

tion. None,save those who, like myself, have been groping in

the black wilderness of Romanism, and at last have found de-

liverance by the light of Jesus, can know what it means.

CHAPTER VII.

A MISSION TO ST. JOSEPH'S ORPHAN ASYLUM, IN

PATERSON, N. J.

I have briefly treated of the vows and regulations of Sisters

of Charity in the preceding chapters, in order that my readers

can more clearly understand the nature of the obligations en-

forced upon me by these vows. I will again resume my per-

sonal experience. On the fourth of January, 18(53, four days

after I was clothed in the habit of the novice, I was sent to

Paterson, N. J. At the sight of St. Joseph's Orphan Asylum,

that cold winter day, my soul was filled with the most conflict-

ing emotions, and I became so overpowered by my feelings

that I gave way to a copious flow of tears as I entered the

community room, to present myself to my new companions,

whom I will now introduce to the readers, as follows

:

Sister Mary Joseph, the sister-servant, was a most stern and

unfeeling woman, well calculated to render my novitiate one of

unmitigated tyranny. She received me in the coldest of co'd

manners, and my affectionate greeting to the other sisters was

also repulsed by their coldness. They appeared like mere

statues, without feeling, without heart. Sister Gertrude, a

(41)

42 A MISSTON TO ST. JOSEPH'S.

weak-minded woman of twenty-six years, was next in office to

the sister-servant. Sister Ann Joseph, a cranky, sharp-visaged

woman of thirty years, was mother of orphans. Sister Mary

de Sales, a German, about twenty-two years of age, born and

brought np in the woods of Boonton, N. J., without any educa-

tion, in fact, unable to write her own name, had been neverthe-

less appointed to teach the orphans. This sister was one of

those weak souls who are always scandalized by their neighbor's

faults ; consequently she was the principal spy of the house,

always reporting the faults of her companions to sister Mary

Joseph, who commended her for it. Lastly, sister Mary Gon-

zaga, another cruel and stern woman of thirty, filled up the num-

ber of those uncongenial souls, among whom my desolate and

lonely heart was destined to become still more desolate and

lonely.

On the morning following my arrival, Sister Mary Joseph

promoted SisterAnn Joseph, to be house-keeper, and installed me

Mother of the Orphans. This office, to me, was one of the

most trying that could possibly be imagined, and no language

can express the feelings I experienced when I first beheld these

poor children huddled together in a cheerless class-room, with-

out fire, without shoes, bare shoulders, and bare arms, crying

and shivering with the cold, presenting altogether the most for-

lorn and miserable scene I had ever before witnessed. The

daily regimen of these poor children is as follows : They rise at

six o'clock, hastily dress, and repair to the bath-room, the older

orphans always assisting the younger because the sisters are

forbid touching them. After they are washed and combed, they

A MISSION TO ST. JOSEPH'S. 43

proceed to a cold class-room for morning prayers ; then to a

scanty and unpalatable breakfast, which, without any change,

always consists of dry bread and coffee, without milk or sugar,

made from the refuse coffee of the sisters' table. The orphans'

table is covered with a black, greasy oil-cloth ; to each child is

thrown a piece of bread, which is eaten from the table without

a plate ; the coffee is served in tin cups. Their appetite is

never satisfied on the scanty allowance given them ; and they

retire fruin the refectory almost as hungry as when entering it.

It is most painful to witness the wistful and yearning glances

they cast at the fragrant and tempting meats on the sisters'

table.

The oldest of the orphans is scarcely twelve years, yet they

perform all the work in the asylum. They do all their own

washing and ironing ; scrub the halls, dormitories, class-rooms,

and refectories ; make beds, sweep, and wash dishes, etc. At

half-past eight, A. M., those who are permitted to attend school

assemble in the clothes-room, where they divest themselves of

their old and tattered clothes, and don the red or green plaid

uniform with which they appear in public. At twelve o'clock

they again march, two by two, to the refectory, where they

partake of a meal, if possible, more uncomfortable than that of

the morning. Their dinner consists of soup made from poor

and infected meat thickened with the waxy remnants of the

unleavened wafer, and crusts of mouldy bread, portioned out to

them in cups, from which they eat with discolored pewter spoons.

I never saw a plate, or knife and fork, on the orphans' table.

At one o'clock they again go to school, and remain until

44 A MISSION TO ST. JOSEPH'S.

three, when school is dismissed. After school the uniform is

replaced by their old comfortless rags. At five o'clock they

have supper, which consists invariably of mush and molasses,

and, for a change, mush and buttermilk. Sometimes the w^eak,

little stomachs of these children refused their unpalatable food*,

and on such occasions sister Ann Joseph, the house-keeper,

would stand over them with a leather strap, called Cat-o'-nine-

tails, and whip them until they ate the nauseous food ; or else

they were starved until they were glad to eat anything.

I could not refrain from weeping when, on the second day of

my arrival, sister Ann Joseph (their former mother) compelled

them to run with bare feet in the snow for one-half hour, and

she applied the cat-o'-nine-tails vigorously on the bare shoul-

ders of those who stopped or hesitated. This sister ridiculed

my tender feelings toward the orphans, telling me I would soon

get hardened to such thing?. I asked her what object she had

in thus exposing those poor little ones to such hardships ;she

replied, " to make them tough and hardy," as she did " not be-

lieve in making hot-house plants of orphans ;" and she further

remarked, that during the two years she had charge of them

she never failed to make them run in that manner twice a week,

winter and summer, and that I must enforce the same disci-

pline.

Notwithstanding the severe instructions given me in regard

to the ffovernment of these forlorn little ones, I resolved to rule

them in love and kindness. Their helpless and desolate condi-

tion made a deep impression on my mind and called out all the

sympathy of my heart. I spoke to them tenderly, and smiled

A MISSION TO ST. JOSEPHS. 45

upon them affectionately, and they soon ceased to tremble at

my approach. They were in such great fear of the sisters, that

the verv sight of one would send them, shivering and crouching

with terror, out of sight. I assisted the young children in all

their necessities ; I combed their heads, which, through neglect

were swarming with vermin, and covered with sores and scabs,

rendering it the most repulsive office I ever performed ;how-

ever, with daily combing, and the use of red-precipitate, they

were in a good condition before three weeks had passed. Every

Saturday I bathed their neglected bodies, which were also

covered with vermin. This treatment, to which they had been

strangers, soon obtained the affection of their little hearts for

me, and they would hail my approach with pleasure, every eye

beaming with welcome whenever I came near them. They

ventured to sit at my feet, and by my side, vieing with each

other who would come the nearest to me, while I would relate

to them little anecdotes as I sat mending their tattered clothes.

I was only with the orphans in the morning, before school, and

after school in the evening, until the next morning, as I was

also obliged to teach sixty children in the Parochial school.

But this state of things was not to last always. Sister De

Sales, the " reporter,'' seeing the affection and, as she called it,

undue familiarity which I manifested toward the poor orphans,

reported me to sister Mary Joseph, who called me to account for

it, and forbade me allowing the children to come near me. I

told these little ones the command I had received from my su-

perior, at the same time assuring them of my love, and that I

would show them all the kindness in my power. I was sub-

46 A MISSION TO ST. JOSEPH'S.

jected to the closest scrutiny by the sly sister De Sales. It

was a matter of astonishment to her why I never whipped the

orphans, and one day she reported to sister Mary Joseph that

one of them, named Mary Grey, had told her a falsehood, and

ought to be punished severely for it. Accordingly she came to

me with an order from sister Mary Joseph, commanding me to

inflict a severe chastisement. I called Mary Grey aside, and

chided her for her fault by -portraying to her in vivid colors the

enormity and hidcousness of the sin, and in punishment I told

her to go on her knees and ask God to forgive her, which she

did very contritely. But the poor child was not to escape so

easily ; sister Mary Joseph, who was watching through a side

door, strided into the room, and in a fierce manner asked me

why I did not obey her orders and punish the child. I replied

I had. To which she responded, " I'll teach you how to pun-

ish her,—you are spoiling those orphans, and soon they will rule

the sisters." She then took the child into a cellar, command-

ing me to follow her. She tied this little child, only about six

years old, across a broken chair ; stripped off her clothes, and

in a merciless manner applied the lash on the tender flesh, which

rose in purple stripes at every stroke. Such cruelty I had

never before witnessed, and the tears rolled down my cheeks at

the sight. But the sight of my emotion maddened her, and

turning to me she said, " I'll teach you to get over your fine

feelings, and at once !" She then gave me the strap, command-

ing me to beat the child in the same manner she had. I re-

monstrated, saying I thought the child was punished enough

on that occasion. Whereupon she took up a large clothes-

A MISSION TO ST. JOSEPH'S. 47

stick and gave me a blow with it across the shoulders, asking,

" was that the way to practice the vow of obedience, as a supe-

rior's orders were not to be questioned but obeyed blindly ?"

There was no alternative, I must obey. I took the strap, and

offering the action to God, for the first time in my life I raised

my hand to inflict pain. Oh, it was a terrible trial; and I can

never forget the agony of that day, and the reflections which

followed. I had sacrificed all that was sacred to me on earth,

and entered a convent, and for what ? To labor as I thought,

in the service of the poor and afflicted, and secure the salvation

of my soul, aided by the example of meek and holy women

;

whereas, I found them cruel, hardened, and unfeeling. I ex-

pected to meet with Christian love and kindness, yet a Sister

of Charity had struck me a severe blow with a large stick, and

compelled me to act inhumanly. Oh, how my spirit resented

such treatment, and my soul was filled with bitterness toward

that cruel sister. But my conscience reproached me with sin-

fulness of entertaining such thoughts against a superior who

represented God to me. I humbled myself, and knelt at her

feet, confessing to her the feelings I entertained for her, and

which her conduct called forth. I asked forgiveness, and re-

quested her to pray for me that those temptations might leave

me. She replied, " she would rather pray for the devil than

for me," and ordered me out of her presence.

My heart was convulsed with an unspeakable agony, and my

soul was plunged into dark waters, temptation, and despair. I

retired to my lonely cell, where I seemed to see the outstretched

arms of my beloved mother beckoning me with inexpressible

3

48 A MISSION TO ST. JOSEPH'S.

tenderness to come to her again and find happiness in her love.

Oh, what a temptation was this to my crushed and bleeding

heart to forsake the gloomy convent, and fly to my mother ; to

revolt against the authority of cruel superiors and break the

chains which detained me in that cold and living sepulchre !

But the very idea froze my blood, and an invincible terror par-

alyzed me. What, break my holy vows ? cause so much scan-

dal to a church which had nourished me with so many graces

and blessings ? become a spectacle to all the world, and an exe-

cration to the community ? Alas ! I had not the moral courage

to brave so formidable a disgrace. What, damn my immortal

soul? become a traitor to my holy vocation ? I could not, I

could not. I must save my soul at every cost. No matter how

much and how great were the sufferings inflicted in this life, my

reward would be eternal.

Such reflections were a foretaste of the many fearful struggles

my heart endured for weary years in the convent. I had of

my own free will commenced a life of unnatural warfare against

all that was human, every heaven-bestowed instinct must be

repressed and destroyed, no escape from my dreary tomb—

I

must abide the consequences of that false step and resign my-

self to my desolate fate, without love, without sympathy, a poor,

forlorn orphan.

CHAPTER VIII.

CONTINUATION OP MY EXPERIENCE IN PATERSON.

About four weeks after the events related in the last chapter,

I was one day trying to reach something from the summit of

the wardrobe. I was standing on a pine step-ladder, about

four feet from the floor. Not being quite able to reach up far

enough, I stood on " tip-toe," when the step-ladder suddenly

slid from under my feet, precipitating me to the floor, and as I

fell partially upon the steps, they were completely demolished.

My back was severely hurt ; but no matter about my personal

injuries, it was the steps I lamented, because I knew I would get

a severe penance for breaking them. Tremblingly I gathered up

the fragments of the broken ladder—tremblingly I carried them

to Sister Mary Joseph, and tremblingly I knelt at her feet and

asked a penance. The words she addressed to me on that ocj

casion are as vividly stamped on my mind as if it were yester-

day I heard them. They were such unlady-like expressions, so

different from anything I had ever heard before, that I will

give them verbatim. " You great clumsy, walloiving, flounder--

ing flat-fish, its just like you to destroy everything you touch,

and as a penance you will put your lazy back to work and

49

50 MY EXPERIENCE IN PATERSON.

make another pair just like them." Had she commanded me

to fly in the air, it could not have appeared more difficult to me

than to make a pair of steps. I had never in my life performed

a carpenter's task of any description ; however, obedience would

not permit me to remonstrate, or offer any excuse or argument,

no matter how inexpedient and absurd the command, as " per-

fect obedience requires a soul without a will, and a will with-

out an intellect." It being Saturday, there was no school, so

I had all day to perform this penance at the neglect of every

other duty, which I was obliged to perform before midnight.

I called Emma Scanlan, the oldest of the orphans, to my as-

sistance, and sent her into the cellar to find some pine boards,

witli saw, axe, hammer and nails, while I repaired to the

chapel to ask St. Joseph, who was a carpenter, to teach me how

to make the steps ; and then expecting a miracle, I went to my

task. But St. Joseph did not come down from heaven to help

me as I superstitiously expected. I sawed and hammered, and

hammered and sawed, until night, before I succeeded in getting

anything together in the shape of steps, and although not so

complete as the former they were quite as substantial. Again

I presented myself to Sister Mary Joseph to know if my work-

manship would suit her ; but she was determined not to be

suited, and notwithstanding the time and labor I had spent try-

ing to obey her unjust commands, she ordered me to put on

my bonnet, and go out and beg the price of them before sup-

per. This was another deep humiliation to me ; however, I

succeeded in begging five dollars from the deluded people who

ars afraid to refuse the " holy sisters " anything. Sister Mary

MY EXPERIENCE IN PATERSON. 51

Joseph kept the five dollars for herself, and the steps I made

were in use when I left Paterson, where I suppose they are

now kept sacred as a relic of the since rebellious Sister de

Chantal.

One morning in May all the sisters were employed making

flower-beds in the garden before school time. I was busy dig-

ging with a little fire shovel, and while thus engaged a large

earth worm flew up in my face, causing me to scream. It be-

ing the hour of silence, Sister Mary Joseph asked who had

broken the rule by screaming ? Sister De Sales, ever ready

to report, answered that it was Sister Teresa de Chantal. I

explained to her the cause, whereupon she ordered me to take

up the worm and eat it. I was horrified at this command, and

told her I was afraid it would poison me. To which she re-

sponded that even if I was sure it would kill me, it was my

duty to obey, reminding me of St. Catharine of Sienna who ate

worms out of a cancer in a woman's breast ; and saying, that if

I ever expected to become a Saint,I must imitate their morti-

fication. Naturally I have the greatest abhorrence to any

creeping thing, and the very thought of taking it in my hand,

was unendurable. But to eat it, ugh ! disgusting ! I had no

sooner taken the worm in my hand than overcome by my sen-

sitiveness, I let it fall with another scream. At this Sister M.

J. became exasperated, took the worm and forced it into my

mouth and made me chew it until I became violently sick at

the stomach.

Christian readers, this is an appalling picture, and perhaps

you are ready to ask, Is it not overdrawn ? So far from this.

52 MY EXPERIENCE IN PATERSON.

believe me, it falls far short of the reality ; for no language

can describe the scene as it really occurred, or the suffering it

occasioned me. To you, it may seem absurd and unheard of,

nevertheless it is a bitter fact, and I challenge Sister Mary

Joseph to contradict it, and she is still in the community of

Madison.

I have seen sisters, voluntarily and without any compulsion,

eat worms and bugs. Sister De Sales always picked out the

worms from apples, or any other fruit she ate, infected with

them, and would come and eat them before me with great

gusto, in order that I might take example from her self-morti-

fication, and admire her sanctity in such performances. I would

have been much more edified and benefited, had she set me an

example of Christian charity instead of the monstrous excesses

she set forth as laudable, under the names of " sanctity " and

" holy austerity."

A great number of holy days are observed among the nuns,

and on such days the priests spend the time in the convent,

recreating with the sisters, without any regard to infringements

of the rule, which allows only certain hours of the day for rec-

reation. On these days I always managed to steal away to the

chapel, but Sister Mary Joseph, to whom my piety was a stum-

bling block, forbade me to act differently from the other sisters,

and commanded me to remain at recreation on those days, even

if I did not take part. I will relate an incident which occurred

on one of those days. A number of priests were spending the

afternoon with the sisters, and having a merry time over their

wine, ice-cream, cakes, candies, nuts, etc., in the community-

MY EXPERIENCE IN PATERSON. 53

room. The floor of this room was bare. A large insect run-

ning on the floor attracted the attention of Sister Ann Joseph,

who arose from her chair, and killed it with her foot, causing a

very disagreeable noise, and leaving an ugly stain on the floor.

I could not refrain from ejaculating, " Oh, sister, how cruel!"

This exclamation attracted the attention of the priests to the

act, which they did not appear to have noticed before. Sister

Mary Joseph was mortified to have the priests notice the un-

lady-like action of Sister Ann Joseph, and she gave me a look

which plainly said, " you will suffer for that." However, the

evening passed away without any reprimand; but the next day

she sent a child to the school after me, ordering me to her

presence at once. I obeyed and found her in the hen-yard with

a large carving knife in her hand, and a hen tied by the feet.

She addressed me thus :" I will cure your sensitive nerves,

and teach you never to mortify me by causing priests to notice

the faults of the sisters. A mere novice like you to presume

to find fault with the professed sisters !" She then bade me

take the knife and cut the head off the hen. I took the knife

and commenced to cut the hen's head. The hen began to kick

and jump, which caused me to drop the knife and tremble msympathy with the hen. I told Sister M. it was impossible

for me to kill it, because I could not endure to see it suffer.

She insisted, and I again tried,but with the same success as

before. I tried again and again, and did not succeed till after

one hour of the greatest suffering to both hen and myself, as I

fainted twice during the operation.

I was not the only sister who suffered through the severity of

54 MY EXPERIENCE IX PATERSON.#

Sister Mary Joseph ; for she seemed to take delight in inflicting

punishment on her helpless subjects. If the orphans did wrong,

or destroyed by accident anything belonging to the house, I was

held responsible, and made to suffer accordingly.

It frequently occurred on the Sabbath that Sister Mary

Joseph would tell me to array the orphans in their green uni-

form for church, and just as they were ready, she would enter

the class-room, come toward me and violently strike or push

me, demanding to know why I did not " dress them in their

red uniform." I would reply, because she had told me the

green. She would then give vent to such invectives as " you

lying, lazy creature, change the green for the red in five min-

utes, or I'll break every bone in your body," etc. The poor

children were obliged to change their clothes in about five min-

utes to be in time for church, causing the greatest confusion

among themselves, and leaving everything in the wildest dis-

order, and so keeping me busy until noon in restoring things to

their proper order.

It was unusual to hear Sister Mary Joseph speak civilly to

the sisters, but what a transformation was there in her manner

and countenance when she received and conversed with her

admiring guests in the parlor ! She appeared then all smiles

and amiability. To the world, she was a Saint, a sweet, " holy

sister." Behind the scenes, she was a demon, a fierce, arbitrary

Wirago. I will lift the curtain which hides her from the world

a little higher.

I was one day obliged to consult her on a matter of obedience

relative to the orphans. Fearing lest I should forget it, and

MY EXPERIENCE IN PATERSON. 55

incur the penalty of a severe penance, I left my class in the

school and hastened to the community-room, where I expected

to find her at her post of duty, but she was not there. I

noiselessly went to her bed-room, and cautiously opened the

door fearing to disturb her if she should be asleep or indisposed.

She was not asleep, but entertaining a Reverend Father whose

name I will not give, because he is now dead, and I have

chiefly to treat with the living who can defend themselves if I

wrong them—in a manner very little in accordance with con-

vent rules, or the idea of a young girl who judged all things

charitably and thought evil of none. She was enraged at my

intrusion, and violently pushed me through the hall and down

the stairs. The fall was so severe that I walked lame for over

one week. She was afraid I might report her conduct to the

other sisters ; therefore in the evening she called me to her

room, apologized a little for throwing me down stairs, and

begged of me not to mention to any one the adventure of

the afternoon. With her accustomed plausibility she put a

construction of innocence on her conduct, which I received with

unquestioning simplicity. Her excuse was that Father D. was

suddenly taken very ill while calling on business, and that she

insisted upon his resting on her bed, where she could more

readily minister unto him. I have given a simple fact, let the

mind draw its own inference.

I do not accuse all the sisters of the community of being im-

moral ; no, there are many pining souls, who, like myself, in all

sincerity labor to become Saints, with the strange fervor which

the Catholic Church teaches. What language can possibly de-

56 MY EXPERIENCE IN PATERSON.

pict the pitiable condition of those poor deluded ones who are

the victims of error so dark, and doctrines so fatal and ruinous ?

Poor creatures, is there no remedy ? None : unless the power

of God burst their bonds and set them free. From the depth

of my heart I thank God that He has set me free at last ; free

from delusion and superstition ; free from priestcraft and tyran-

nical superiors ; free from convent rules and regulations ; free

from its prison walls, and unholy discipline. But it required

the deep cuts of the chisel, and the hard and heavy strokes of

the hamn*er to sever the chains of my captivity.

CHAPTER IX.

SOME ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF CRUELTY TO THE ORPHANS.

An orphan's fate is most desolate under any circumstances,

but how much more so is it, if these poor waifs are cast entirely

among strangers, and especially among those women whose

hearts never throbbed with maternal love and joy, and where

the unrelieved monotony and sterile dreariness of their unnat-

ural mode of living have smothered every vestige of tender-

ness and compassion, and whose rule and vows oblige them to

crush out of their natures every human tie, every womanly

impulse, every maternal instinct. What is the fate of orphans

entrusted to the care of such beings ? Let the following state-

ment of facts determine :

In the month of March, 1863, in company with Sister Mary

Joseph I attended the dying bed of a poor woman named Mrs.

Stanton. Her husband had been killed on the battle field, and

she was compelled to go out washing to support herself and

child. Finally her health failed, and she was dying. Troubled

about the fate of her dear child, she sent for the Sisters of

Charity, and with her dying breath commended her little one

to the mercy and care of Sister Mary Joseph, entreating her

(57)

58 ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF CRUELTY.

to be a mother to the orphan, for the sake of Him who saith,

'•'Inasmuch as you have done these things to the least of my

brethren, so also have ye done them unto me.*' Annie Stan-

ton, the name of this little one, was scarcely three years of age

and was a most lovely and interesting child. Young as she

\vas;she grieved for her mother, and it was truly heartrending

to hear her piteous cries of " Oh, take me to my mother ! I

want my mother ! I want my mother ! O my mother, my

mother 3" Ah, poor child ! your mother has gone, and no one

on earth can ever fill her place, no matter how kind they may

be—nothing can ever supply a mother's love and care.

It is impossible for me to analyze, much less describe, the

emotions of my heart, when Sister Mary Joseph handed this

newly made orphan over to my charge to share the same fate

as the rest. I trembled to admit that it was not in my power

to shield this darling child from suffering, of which the length

and depth can scarcely be comprehended. Alas ! the unhappy

child must soon, like myself, discover the hard truth, that mother

and home were gone, gone forever. However, I resolved to

alleviate the hardships of this child as much as I possibly could.

Annie would go at the appointed time to the refectory only to

leave it with her coarse food untouched. I often unobserved

shared my own meals with her, but the spy De Sales was ever

on the alert, and soon made known to Sister M. Joseph my" partiality "—as she termed it ; consequently I was made to

fast on bread and water for one week as a penance. Neverthe^

less I would on every available occasion pilfer from the Sisters'

ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF CRUELTY. 59

table and give palatable food to the weak and delicate among

the orphans. I was often severely penanced for it.

Every night before I retired, custom demanded that I should

arouse the younger of the orphans and see them to the water

closet. Some of the little ones were not easily awakened,

therefore I would take them in my arms and carry them, con-

trary to the rules which forbade sisters to touch them except

to inflict correction. One cold night I was caught by De Sales

in the awful act of carrying Annie Stanton, whereupon I was

of course reported, and Sister Ann Joseph was sent to watch me,

and give me instructions in regard to the manner in which I

should treat the orphans. The following night Annie Stanton

cried at the unusual manner in which she was awakened.

Sister Ann Joseph dragged her from the bed, and ordered her

to walk on the cold floor. The child, half asleep, refused, and

began to call her mother. Touched by this appeal I went

toward the child in order to coax her. Sister Ann Joseph

pushed me back, took off her hard leather shoe and began to

beat her on the delicate flesh, which rose in black and blue

ridges at every cruel blow. I could not endure this, but pulled

sister away, asking her if she meant to kill the child. My in-

terference enraged her ; she sent another child for the leather

strap, placed the little naked body across the bed, and beat that

child till the blood came. The shrieks and screams of her

victim infuriated this woman, who then seemed the personifica-

tion of a fiend, to such an extent that in order to smother her

cries, she dragged the little one to the bath room, placed her

in the tub and turned a shower of ice water upon her, keeping

$0 ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF CRUELTY.

her under it until she became so chilled that her body stiffened

out as if dead. As a very natural result of such barbarity, a

violent fever ensued which nearly resulted in death. Never

can I forget the cries of that suffering child, as she pleaded for

mercy from that heartless woman, a woman too, bearing the

name of a " Sister of Charity," and " Mother " to the mother-

less little ones under her care.

On another occasion sister Gonzaga took Mary Carrigan, a

girl nine years of age, for the trifling offense of picking some

gooseberries from the Sisters' garden, and shut her up in a dark

closet in the cellar infested with rats and mice, from eight

o'clock in the morning until five in the evening, and when this

sister of Charity went to release her little victim, she found her

in an idiotic condition, clinging to the wall ; this brutal punish-

ment had resulted in transforming that once bright and intelli-

gent child into an idiot!

In the fall of 1864, for some slight offense Sister Mary Joseph

beat Mary Gray with so much severity as to cover her naked

body writh black and blue stripes. This poor child, made des-

perate by repeated ill usage, ran away from the Asylum ; was

picked up in the streets and taken to the poor house, where she

/vas discovered, and brought back to the convent.

Sister Ann Joseph beat so unmercifully a child about eleven

fears of age named Jennie Carney, that she also ran away

bearing on her body the marks of cruelty. Lizzie Madden,

twelve years of age, ran away twice, on account of ill treat-

ment, and when she was captured and brought back the second

time, Sister Mary Joseph tied her to a post with a rope, and

ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF CRUELTY. 61

scourged her most inhumanly. Kitty Rooney, a sweet little

child of five years,was obliged to be kept out of sight for two

weeks, on account of the way her face was disfigured, by the

beating and kicking she received from Sister Gonzaga.

I could relate many other instances of the sisters' unkindness

to the children in the asylum, but I will merely direct the

readers attention to one more. Mrs. Berry, a poor widow,

placed her two children in the asylum sometime in 18G3.

These children were named Sarah Ann and Mary Berry.

Sarah Ann, the youngest, was about three years old. Sister

Ann Joseph was infirmarian to the orphans, and she formed a

marked dislike for this child, and in every possible way caused

her to suffer. One day in Juanuary, 18G4, Sister Ann Joseph

ordered Sarah Ann away from her scanty breakfast to the in-

firmary in order to give her some medicine. This was a mat-

ter of surprise to me, as I knew of nothing ailing Sarah Ann

that morning ; moreover she was a very healthy child, never

having been ill while in the Asylum. In. about ten minutes

after Sarah Ann left the refectory, and while I was at my

breakfast, Emma Scanlon came running for me in breathless

agitation, calling " O Sister, Sister ! come quickly, Sarah Ann

Berry is dying." I hastened to the class room where I found

the child writhing on the floor in mortal agony. On taking her

up she immediately expired in my arms. Fifteen minutes had

scarcely elapsed after she left the refectory in the glow of

health, ere she was a lifeless corpse, her sudden death spread-

ing terror to the hearts of us all. I sent for Sister Ann Jo-

seph who came into the class-room extremely pale and agitated.

62 ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF CRUELTY.

I said, " Sister, what medicine have you given this child ? See,

she is dead." She authoritatively replied, u I gave her salts,

what's that to you ? I believe I have charge of the infirmary !"

"Yes, sister, but are you sure it was salts you gave her?"

Looking her steadily in the eye, for I felt a strong conviction

that all was not right, as her past repeated unkindness to the

little dead child rose up before me.

In a sharp angry tone she replied, "the child died of the

heart disease, and it is none of your business what I gave her,"

slamming the door violently as she went out. I had the pain-

ful task of laying out the little corpse in its pine coffin, and it

was conveyed away in six hours after death, by the undertaker,

to a pauper's grave in the cold earth.

No physician was called in ; no investigation made, nor the

slightest inquiries permitted to be circulated in regard to the

sudden and mysterious death of this poor child. Even her

mother would not be permitted to see her until she threatened

to report Father McNulty, and get her child disinterred, un-

less he would give her a permit to look again upon the face of

her dear child, before the grave would hide her away forever

from the earthly vision.

I have given plain and true facts with regard to the treat-

ment of orphans in St. Joseph's Asylum in Paterson, facts

which would never reach the public, if I had not renounced

Romanism.

Orphans cannot complain to their friends, because they can-

not see them alone ; a sister is always within hearing. A day

is set apart every month for visitors to see orphans, and on that

ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF CRUELTY. 63

day they are arrayed in a neat looking uniform, drilled and

warned in regard to their every word, look, and manner, and

if they trespass these injunctions, they know the punishment

which awaits them. Orphans are forbidden any communica-

tion with the parish children ; they are completely walled in

with their plaints and pleas from the ears of a bamboozled

humanity; and whoever dare to make known those grievances

to the public, let them be anathema, is the voice of the Church

of Rome.

I have dared to make known many things regardless of the

curses which Rome may heap upon me, or the violence she may

use against me; and in the statements I have made in this

chapter relative to the orphans, some of the parties have boldly

corroborated them, as the following digression will show.

Having mentioned in some of my public lectures examples

of cruelty to orphans, Dr. John Quinn, the Catholic Physician

of the Asylum in Paterson, entered into a controversy with me

in the papers, endeavoring by. falsehoods to blindfold the public.

He says, " 1 myself attended the child Sarah Ann Berry for

heart disease before she entered the Asylum, and I told her

mother she would not live long." I gave a lecture in Paterson,

April 22d, 1870, confronting Quinn with the facts. Mrs. Berry,

the mother of the child, was in my audience. After the lec-

ture she came forward before several witnesses, among them

Rev. G. Winans, Rev. M. Dally, Messrs. Turner and Williams,

besides a large number of ladies and gentlemen, and embraced

me, tearfully thanking me for the kinduess I had shown her

children. She then and there testified that every word I had

64 ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OP CRUELTY.

said about the treatment of her children was true, and stated that

neither Dr. Quinn, nor any other Doctor ever tended her child

for heart disease or any other disease, and that she never spoke

to Quinn in her life. She gave further testimony of the cruel

treatment her other child Mary received from the sisters, and

when she took her away from the asylum, the sisters retained

the good clothes her child had brought to the asylum, and "sent

her out of it clothed in scarcely rags enough to cover her."

Jennie Carney, one of the orphans whom I mentioned as hav-

ing run away from the asylum on account of ill treatment, was

also in my audience. She too came forward, being then a

young girl of seventeen years, and with great affection greeted

me. She publicly testified to the truth of my statements about

the orphans.

Thus it is that truth will and must prevail. Dr. Quinn was

ignomoniously defeated, even by Catholics, and I was vindicated.

CHAPTER X.

THE CONVENT SCHOOL SYSTEM.

The unkindness of Sisters of Charity to children extends

farther than the orphans, as the children of parochial schools

can testify. "When a child fails in recitation or conduct, the

rod is called into requisition, and the hands and bodies of those

little ones often carry to their parents marks of the sisters' cruel

correction. Another mode of punishment is to keep delinquents

confined to the class-room from nine o'clock in the morning

until six in the evening without dinner or a moment's recrea-

tion ; yet the poor parents stand in such awe of the sisters that

they dare not complain for fear of incurring the displeasure of

priests, who threaten with excommunication all parents who

withdraw their children from the parish school and send them to

public schools. This, however, those Catholic sometimes do

who prefer their children's advancement to the priest's absolu-

tion.

The parochial schools are poorly regulated, and more time

is spent in handling " beads " and saying " Hail Mary " than

in the regular instruction of the children. Again, these parish

schools are entirely under the supervision of the priests who

6G THE CONVENT SCHOOL SYSTEM.

engage the sisters to teach, and from the contributions of the

parish pay to the Reverend Mother, for each sister's service,

the salary of four hundred dollars per annum. It is impossible

for the children to advance rapidly in these schools, because

they are not properly instructed. It often happens that one

sister may have from one hundred and eighty to two hundred

children to teach, and sisters are sent to teach who are ignor-

ant themselves. Sister de Sales' class of orphans was one year

learning how to spell words of one syllable. The priests spend

a great deal of their time in the parochial schools, making love

to the pretty young sisters, while the rest of their time is spent

in mumbling Latin offices, drinking wine, or " whisky punch,"

and making merry on the " fat of the land."

Note. In treating of cruelty to children, or the sis-

ters' incompetency to teach, I do not allude to a boarding

school institution, or to the Academy in Madison, or to any

select pay-school taught by Sisters of Charity. The sisters do

not so far forget themselves, or their church policy, as to im-

pose cruelties on those children whose parents pay a tuition

fee of from two hundred and fifty to three hundred dollars per

annum. I will here state that there can be no greater kind-

ness shown to pupils than is bestowed on the children of wealthy

parents, and especially those of Protestant parentage who are

open to conviction in the way of Catholic dogmas. Such pupils

are taught well, but not in solid branches of science or history.

They appear to aim to give a superficial show of accomplish-

ments, according to the capacity of each pupil, in order that

parents may be satisfied ; at the same time every exertion is

THE CONVENT SCHOOL SYSTEM. G<

made to win the affections and secure the confidence of those

pupils so that their young minds may be impressed with the

alluring doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church.

Seldom do these attempts fail in creating at least a strong

fascination toward the showy and theatrical forms and cere-

monies, which generally possess a peculiar charm for children.

And yet Protestant parents send their children to be educated

in distant convents, deluding themselves with the silly idea that

no attempt will be made to indoctrinate their young minds with

Romish errors. Are such parents not aware that the Catholic

religion is one of exclusive pretensions, accounting all those

outside its pale as doomed to eternal damnation ; and that sis-

ters are especially bound to use every effort for the conversion

of " heretics ?" If Protestants are ignorant of this, it is the re-

sult of indifference, and it is a moet serious fault in them to be

so thoughtless as to send their daughters to Roman Catholic

Convents to be educated. Is it not a contradiction in itself,

this protesting against a creed and espousing it in their chil-

dren ? If Protestant parents consider it necessary to send their

children away from home to be educated, are there not hundreds

of Protestant schools where every branch of knowledge is

taught by intelligent and experienced teachers ? Why then

support Catholic schools in preference to their own institutions ?

That the Romish seminaries of learning are liberally encouraged

and supported by many of the Protestant community is a fact

which cannot be denied. And do Roman Catholics support

Protestant institutions, either literary or religious ? If they

Have ever given a single cent to found or build up institutions

68 THE CONVENT SCHOOL SYSTEM.

which are Protestant—which they maliciously denounce as

" heretic "—is something altogether unknown to me. Yet

Protestants, kind souls, lend Romanists a strong arm to build

up and support their peculiar institutions. " Heretics " coun-

tenance and support liberally the institution in Madison ; and a

large number of Protestant young ladies from different parts

of the Union have attended it, from its first foundation in 1859,

I have been brought to see the unwholsome influence that is

exerted over Protestant young ladies who receive their educa-

tion in that institution. Prodigious efforts are made to impress

popish doctrines upon their tender and susceptible minds ; and

I can safely say there is not one out of ten who leaves that in-

stitution whose mind is not filled with the religious tenets of

the Church of Rome. I am acquainted with several young"

ladies educated at St. Elizabeth's, and with few exceptions they

all felt more or less inclined to embrace Catholicism. The

sisters are seemingly very mild, amiable, and pleasing in.

their dispositions to Protestant pupils—engaging and winning in

all they say and do—and are possessed of all the charms and

machinations necessary to initiate themselves into their good

graces, and to gain them over finally to popery.

The sisters will blandly tell Protestant parents that they

will make no effort to instil the Catholic religion in the minds

of their children, and that they will be perfectly free to prac-

tice the precepts of their own religion. Certainly they do not

compel scholars to study the Catholic Catechism, or expound

the " Christian Doctrine," yet the latter must be present at

those exercises and listen attentively to the Catholic interpre-

THE CONVENT SCHOOL SYSTEM. 69

tation. They must also be present at every Catholic devotion

in the chapel, which is hung with pictures, and decorated with

everything pleasing to the eye and charming to the senses.

Protestants, look at this. In Convent schools your children

are denied the blessed privilege of hearing the Bible read, or

even of reading their pocket Bibles which were given them

when they left your homes. This question of education is the

question agitating the public mind of to-day in the Catholic

effort to deprive the public schools of the Bible. Will Prot-

estant parents still continue the Convent education of their

children ? Will they so thoughtlessly and unwisely hazard the

spiritual welfare of their precious children in this way ? These

facts speak for themselves. I need not make any reflections on

them, but I do make an earnest appeal to Protestants to stand

by themselves and their principles, and entirely do away with

the Catholic education of their daughters. To subject that

system to a just and severe investigation, I, as an ex-nun, can

assure them, is an impossibility.

CHAPTER XI.

MY SISTER VISITS ME IN PATERSON.

Fifteen long, weary months had passed, since I entered the

Convent, and during that time I had not heard from home or

friends. I had written to my j^arents twice, but every letter

sent, or received, being subject to the inspection of the supe-

riors, I never knew whether my letters had been sent from

the Convent ; and as I had net received any, I had given up

all hopes of ever hearing from my home. Although I had of-

fered this trial as a sacrifice to God, still my heart yearned to

hear from that dear mother who had so tenderly watched over

me in the past, and from whom my insane folly had rendered

it forever impossible to receive comfort again. Oh,

how often my soul struggled against the temptation of despair

and remorse, at the step I had taken, and from which there

must be no looking back ! I had no one but myself to blame

;

my own hand had clasped the chain which I then thought noth-

ing but death could unclasp. Oh, the nights of conflict and

anguish followed by days of outward calmness and apparent

conformity, the dissimulation of which was again the subject

of remorse ! Oh, how keenly I suffered the penalty of my in-

(70)

MY SISTER VISITS ME IN PATERSON. 71

fatimtion ! Encircled as I had been with the mercies of a

bountiful God, I had cast them all from me to follow a path

which He. never marked out for any of His creatures.

Inexperienced, simple-minded, and enthusiastic, I had fallen

an easy prey to the sophistries of my spiritual guide, to whom

I entrusted implicitly every sacred feeling and aspiration of my

young heart, and who so skilfully tampered with the ardent im-

pressions and fervent elements of my nature as to cause them

to assume the unnatural proportions of religious fanaticism.

Oh, the pernicious influence of Confession, that terrible arm of

priestcraft ! that diabolical device for seduction ! that subtle

means of piercing the most sacred secrets, and keeping in

chains the weaker sex ! Extreme conscientiousness had always

been my characteristic. It had been the moving principle of

my entrance on conventual life. Sincerely anxious to save

my soul, and infatuated by the belief that I could not do it in

the outer world, I had placed myself on the altar of self-immo-

lation—self-atonement. Being possessed of more than a com-

mon degree of fervor, nothing in the shape of self-denial had

daunted me, nay, it had rather subtly fed my spiritual pride.

Self-glorified by the great sacrifices I had made of my home,

my friends, and my relations, for the sake of self-satisfaction,

I felt that I must finish the work I had begun, and endeavor to

forget them ; that being entirely disengaged from all earthly

things I might think of nothing else but my soul's salvation. And

at that time I was deluded with the thought that the greater sac-

rifice I made the more it pleased and glorified God. Despite

the effort to forget the things that were behind, long buried

4

72 MY SISTER VISITS ME IN PATEKSON.

memories would awake as if in mockery of the robe of stoicism

in which I was seeking to envelop myself, and in defiance of

the barriers which events had been erecting about me. The

convulsive sobs and deep drawn sighs which these memories

prompted declared me to be clothed still in all the panoply of

human weakness, of human love, and of human desires ; earthly

affections only slumbered to be awakened into new life on the

slightest occasion.

It was the feast of the Epiphany, January, 1864. Sister

Mary Joseph met me in the hall, and in a sharp tone ordered

me to go to the parlor and stay just ten minutes. These were

the only words she condescended to address to me, and I, think-

ing some lady of the parish wished to see me in regard to her

children, and that I was restricted to a ten minutes interview

as a trial of obedience, proceeded to the parlor. But oh, how

can I picture my surprise to meet there my oldest sister, Ger-

trude ! In my joy, forgetting every restraint, every obligation

of rule which forbids the sisters to make any demonstration of

affection on meeting their relatives, I threw my arms around

her neck and kisse*d her fondly, holding her for several moments

to my throbbing heart. I was entirely overcome by this sud-

den and unexpected meeting of a sister dearly loved. Before

I could control my feelings sufficiently to inquire about home

the ten minutes had expired. I could not endure the thought

of parting with my sister so soon, therefore I hastened to sister

Mary Joseph, and on my knees begged her to grant me a little

extension of the time in which to see my sister. She refused

to grant me a single minute more. I then asked her if she

MY SISTER VISITS ME IN PATERSON. 73

would not, at least, send some refreshment to her, as she was

very weary after her long journey from Rhode Island, and be-

sides she had had considerable difficulty in finding me, having

gone first to Madison. This little act of Christian charity she

refused on the plea that she could go conveniently to a restau-

rant, as there were plenty of such places in the city. She

sharply told me I ought to be very grateful for the favor of

seeing my sister at all, and that she would not have granted it

if she could have denied my " proud sister," who steadfastly

refused to go away without seeing me. ' Language is powerless

to describe the overwhelming grief I felt in being forced to

turn away that sister without another word, even without a

caress. Oh God, what a trial ! Fifteen months without a

word from those I so dearly loved—without seeing one dear

familiar face ! and then at last, when a sister comes to see me,

sent by dear parents who w,ere anxious to know my fate, I,

after" all her long journey to a strange place, am obliged to send

her away, powerless to offer her even the least act of courtesy

or kindness ;—to send her away without having the time to

communicate a single message of love for my darling mother,

or even inquire about her, while my poor heart had so many

questions to ask about home, and how each had borne my ab-

sence from them. My sister, who was very unfavorably im-

pressed by the unkindness of Sister Mary Joseph, asked me if

I was happy among such vulgar companions. With convent

dissimulation I was forced to reply in the affirmative, for, was

not a sister in the hall listening to every word we uttered ?

With a heavy heart I closed the door on that sister, and, unable •

74 MY SISTER VISITS ME IN PATERSON.

to longer restrain my deep emotion, hastened to the chapel to

offer my bleeding heart anew on the altar of sacrifice. The

short visit of Gertrude recalled all the anguish of my separa-

tion from home, and the strangely cruel manner of her recep-

tion at the Convent added more keenly to my sorrow. Oh, how

my nature rebelled against this system, which, without any

cause, took delight in inflicting pain ! Where could my strug-

gling, trembling soul find shelter ? Not in God, for I had no

light to seek Him alone ; but after a severe conflict I at last

seemed to find a temporary shelter under the subtile charms of

spiritual pride.

CHAPTER XII.

MY PROFESSION, AND MISSION TO HUDSON CITY.

My novitiate lasted one year and five months, seven months

less than was usually required on account of the perfect docility

I had shown to arbitrary superiors, and my resignation to the

many severe trials imposed upon me. On the 16th of July,

1864, I was summoned to the Mother-house, in Madison, to

take the irrevocable vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

I entered on a retreat of eight days, and in silence and retire-

ment prepared myself for the coming of the heavenly Bride-

groom, whom my fertile imagination had clothed in the fairest

of human colors. I contemplated this celestial spouse in a ter-

restrial manner, because the imagination cannot very well pic-

ture God.

On the 25th of July, 1864, in my twenty-second year, I was

clothed in the black habit of the professed nuns, and pronounced

the final vows which espoused me to Him whom the angels

serve, and cut me off entirely from the world. In making these

vows I had offered to God a perfect holocaust, meritoriously

renouncing riches by my vow of poverty, my body, and all

earthly affection, by my vow of chastity, and my will and lib-

(75)

76 MY MISSION TO HUDSON CITY.

erty by the vow of obedience. These vows were a second

baptism, a sacrifice so heroical and excellent that Saint Ber-

nard calls it a " glorious martyrdom." It is indeed a continual

martyrdom, the martyrdom of a religious is not ended by one

blow, it is a long suffering daily revived. It is a martyrdom

which God rejects because it places self-righteousness on the

Mediatorial throne from which the One Mediator is ejected.

And oh, what a naked, unsubstantial, comfortless atonement is

here offered to an outraged God

!

I had taken upon myself this continual martyrdom, ana at

every cost I would be faithful to my obligations, and scrupu-

lously exact in the observance of my vows. I had forecasted

the difficulties and anticipated the requirements these vows en-

forced ; nevertheless, inasmuch as it is impossible fully to fore-

see the future of any state of existence because of the changes

which we ourselves undergo, and much less calculate all the

phases presented by the conventual state to the ever-varying

human heart, I did not foresee the intricate paths and heart-

wringing suffering which would eventually lead me out of the

meshes of delusion into the broad day of religious liberty.

After my profession I was permitted a few weeks of vacation

in Madison; whence, on the loth of August, 1864, I was sent,

in company with sisters Josephine and Agnes, to. establish a

Convent in Hudson City, N. J. My heart was oppressed with

a sad foreboding of great and unforeseen trials, when I arrived

at my new destination that sultry August day. " Future events

cast their shadows before." Was it not a foresight of the bitter

heart aches, the fierce conflicts, the wild temptations, the awful

MY MISSION TO HUDSON CITY. 77*

despair, which awaited me there, that cast such an undefined

dread over my soul that day ?

Father Venuta, pastor of St. Joseph's Church, had everything

in readiness for our reception. Our task of establishing a new

parish school was not an easy one. The sisters had never been

there before, therefore' it required a great deal of perseverance,

and patience, to gather the children together. However, on

account of the daily increase in our school, we were obliged to

send to Madison for another nun. Sister De Sales was sent to

us. Sister Josephine was the appointed sister-servant. She

was another edition of sister Mary Joseph. Sister Agnes was

a novice, and of her trials I will speak in another chapter. I

was next in authority to sister Josephine, and I soon became

the popular favorite with the children and the people ; from

which cause I suffered a great deal through the jealousy of sis-

ter Josephine.

I never witnessed so much squalor and misery as I saw in

that parish. My heart ached for those poor priest-ridden peo-

ple, and questioned in secret why there was no remedy ? I

visited them in sickness and affliction, in their poverty and mis-

ery, in the jail, and in their comfortless abodes. I have often

scrubbed the filthy floors of their shanties when the women

were ill or intoxicated, and in every way I tried to relieve their

misery as far a's lay in my power. Father Venuta, their pas-

tor, was a passionate Italian, who never visited his poor people

except on his never-endiug beggiug expeditions. On the rich,

however, he lavished his priestly services. He hot only beg-

ged himself from his poor parishioners, but he also, sent the

78 MY MISSION TO HUDSON CITT.

sisters to beg for him ; he would often say to me in his peculiar

style, when he wanted me to beg :" Ho yoo are sooch a goode

seesther, and the people doos like the leetle seesther, and they

weel geeve yoo pleenty of mooney."

My heart often refused to take money from the poor people

who would give me -their last cent rather than refuse the " Holy

Sister." I always found the ignorant poor more willing to give

to the priests and sisters than the rich, who, as a general thing,

are more enlightened. Priests are dressed in purple and gold

vestments when they say mass, and they are attired in the best

of broadcloth on other occasions, while those from whom they

extort the means for their luxury, are in rags. Catholics build

up elegant houses for their clergymen, and furnish them with

every modern comfort and luxury, while their own poor shan-

ties are bare and comfortless. Catholics are burdened with a

tax in their priesthood without deriving any real good from it

for themselves.

A priest will not even say a mass for the poorest among his

flock unless he receives one dollar. Priests receive one dollar

for each mass they say during the year ; and sometimes they

have so many " intentions " that they sell them to each other.

By an " intention " I mean the arrangement made by a priest

with a parishioner to pray for the latter, or his departed friends.

Now, suppose a Mr. McNulty should give Father Venuta fifty

dollars and request him to say fifty masses for his soul, perhaps

in the week or month following the priest might have one

hundred persons apply in the same manner ; these masses, or

MY MISSION TO HUDSON CITY. 79

" intentions," which, he could not say, tie would sell to other

priests. A priest can only say one mass in a day except Sun-

days, when he can say two ; yet he is often paid for more

masses than he can say in one year. If he is honest he will

sell them to some priest who has not so many applications.

But what guarantee has the applicant that the masses are ever

said ?

The mass is the " unbloody sacrifice of the body and blood

of Christ, and the daily oblation of Calvary." Now, if the

mass is so very holy, why are priests paid for all they say ? and

why do they even peddle them around for sale ? Priests will

extort money in every way from their blinded followers, and

then in their necessities abandon them to die of starvation,

—

which they often would were it not for the humane charities of

Protestants whom they are taught to despise, and believe con-

demned to eternal damnation.

My dear Catholic readers, I now look pityingly^upon you,

as I was once in the same condition myself. I did not lose my

faith in the purity of the Catholic church without a fearful

struggle. I would gladly have your eyes open to the truth of

what I state as facts, in order that your daughters and sisters

may escape sufferings like those of Sister Teresa de ChantaL

Tear down the false staging which keeps from you the true

worship of Christ. I desire you all to be saved through Christ

alone.

In the Catholic church the worship of Christ is behind the

theatricals of gaudily dressed priests, incensed sanctuaries, or-

namented images of the Virgin Mary, beautiful pictures, frescoed

80 MY MISSION TO HUDSON CITY.

paintings, wondrous statuaries of imaginary saints and martyrs,

rosaries, scapulars, medals, relics, and Agnus Deis, with their

accompanying indulgences ; and associated with most entranc-

ing music, fragrant flowers, lighted candles, gorgeously dressed

altars, surpliced acolytes, blessed ashes, holy water, consecrated

wafers, holy oil and chrism. There are also the attractive cer-

emonies of extreme unction, absolution, confession, satisfaction,

besides the lenten fasts, and days of abstinence, genuflexions

and stations of the cross, the crosier and mitres with the ponti-

ficial high mass decorations, latin liturgies, illuminated missals,

gold and silver ciboriums, ostensoriums and chalices, candela-

bras and vases, crosses and precious stones, costly laces, fine

linens, and the royal puple, with numerous minor forms and

ceremonies. All these, my Catholic readers, before you can

get to Christ. You say, " but we are not worthy to go to

Christ, so we send to Him, His holy Mother, and His saints,

and His hgly priests." Now, Christ invites all to come to Him

in truth and humility ; and, in order that we might go to Him

the more readily He clothed Himself in our lowly humanity.

We all have one great boon to, procure, our soul's salvation. If

we are truly desirous of securing it we will not trust it to an

ambassador, no matter how trustworthy, but we will go our-

selves to the Fountain of Life, Christ Himself, then we will be

sure that we will not be deceived. I never realized the truth

of God until I had completely torn down the false staging

which hid Him from me. But oh, the unutterable anguish, the

fearful desolation of spirit I experienced, in the awful tearing

away of my once venerated faith ! I now thank God in my

MY MISSION TO HUDSON CITY. 81

mnermost heart for my wonderful deliverance. I am now cov-

ered with His righteousness, I am no longer the same ; Jesus

is now my only refuge. Adored Lord ! increase my faith, per-

fect it, crown it. Having drawn me from the pit and borne

me at last to Thy true fold, keep me in Thy sweet pastures

And lead me to eternal life.

CHAPTER XIII.

SISTER AGNES, SHE LEAVES THE CONVENT.

Sister Agnes had been in the novitiate about six months

when she came with us to Hudson City. Her name in the

world was Teresa McGehan ; her friends were wealthy and

resided in Brooklyn, L. I. She was very beautiful ; her face

had a power of most varied expression, with a touch of pathetic

sadness that penetrated my heart and caused me to become

deeply interested in her. She had been engaged to be married

•to one whom she loved with all the intensity of her nature

;

but death deprived her of the beloved one, and a hue as of the

grave rested upon her young life. She came to the convent

to seek balm for her anguished heart, and rest for her troubled

spirit. Poor, deluded one ! The dull monotonous life of a

nun was not adapted to her warm, susceptible, sensitive nature,

and she soon realized the bitter truth. A " particular friend-

ship " soon sprung up between us. Sister Josephine subjected

Sister Agnes to the deepest humiliation ; she compelled her to

work in the kitchen, scrub the floors, and perform all the hard

and menial offices in the house. Sister Agnes possessed a

powerful self-will, strengthened as it had always been by her-

• (82)

SISTER AGNES, SHE LEAVES THE CONVENT. * 83

friends, who had never thwarted her in the most trifling ca-

price, consequently she was unable to yield her will in sub-

mission to the cruel demands of a superior who was in every

way her inferior, and so against the unjust commands of Sister

Josephine she frequently rebelled. Her friends often visited

her, but she was never permitted to see them alone. They

would send her delicacies which were never given to her, and

every movement of hers was watched and reported by the spy,

De Sales. Sister Agnes frequently confided to me the great

interior trials she suffered, and how fearfully she was tempted

with uncharitable thoughts against some of the sisters. She

often gave expression to the following words, " Sister, God

forgive me ! but I hate Sister De Sales with all my heart, and

as for Sister Josephine, I despise her." I counseled her to

bear all trials patiently for her soul's sake, and that the grave

would soon come to our relief, and our reward would be

eternal.

One day Sister Josephine commanded her to carry a large

basket of clothes down stairs. Sister Agnes replied they were

too heavy to carry alone, whereupon Josephine undertook to

assist her, at the same time pushing the basket against Sister

Agnes, causing her foot to slip from the step, and she was vio-

lently precipitated to the bottom of the stairs. Sister Agnes

fainted, and remained several hours as if dead. She was una-

ble to leave her bed for one week, and was constantly spitting

blood in large quantities. This cruel outrage towards Sistei

Agnes fired my soul with indignation, and I threatened Sister

84 SISTER AGNES, SHE LEAVES THE CONVENT.

Josephine that I would write about her to Father McQuade*

and inform him of her cruel treatment of. Sister Agnes, whom

she came so near killing. My threats enraged her to such an

extent that she slapped me on the face, with her large mascu-

line hand. I turned to her my other cheek winch she also

slapped, and in her fury she pulled off my head dress, and

dragged me along the hall by the hair of the head. I know

not how her rage would have terminated • if she were not at

that moment called down to the parlor to see Father Senez,

the ex-Jesuit of Jersey City, who was deeply enamored with

charming Josephine, who never exhibited her temper before

him ; to him she was " Son idole, la belle Josephine." "When

a few hours afterwards I entered the cell of Sister Agnes I

found her weeping convulsively. She told me she had decided

to leave the " convent hell," even if her soul should be damned

by the action ; she could no longer endure such a life. At her

earnest request I wrote a letter to her sister, Mrs. Devane, of

Brooklyn, imploring her to come and take her away from the

convent. This letter I sent unknown to Sister Josephine. In

a few days her friends called, and with great joy took her away

from the convent ; they were always opposed to her remaining

'there. Her friends wrote to Madison for her clothes and

property, of which they never received one-third. Poor Sister

Agnes ! on the day of her departure from the convent, she

* Father McQuade was at that time Father Superior over the Sisters

and President of Seton Hall College, in South Orange, N. J., but sinct

that time he has been made Bishop of Rochester, N. Y.

SISTER AGNES, SHE LEAVES THE CONVENT. *$'£>

'

clung to me, sobbing as. if her heart would break, and exclaim-

ing, " sister, I fear I am lost, and that my soul will be

damned eternally for abandoning my vocation, but I cannot

help it. I have not your submissive perseverance which pati-

ently submits to the cruelty of convent life !" Poor misguided

soul ! she thought she would find love, and calm, and rest, and

heaven-born peace, for her sorrowing heart, in the convent, but

alas ! with all other deluded ones who embrace this life, she

had found only unkindness, coldness, suspicion, jealousy, and

ceaseless strife and unhappiness : instead of peace she had

found the most racking doubts and mental conflict ; instead of

rest a ceaseless strain of convent observances, and mental and

physical toil. Happy girl ! to shake off the shackles of con-

ventualism ; would to God she could shake off the chains of

Romanism also, and find eternal rest, and peace, and joy in

Christ

!

CHAPTER XIV.

INSANITY OP SISTER VIRGINIA AND REBELLION OF SISTER

ANN ELIZABETH.

Among those sisters for whom I entertained a particular at-

tachment, none were so dear to me as Sister Virginia. Ellen

O'Grady was her worldly name, and she had, before she left

the world, resided with her mother in Newark, N. J. She

entered the convent a few days after myself, therefore she was

a candidate with me. She was one of those beautiful, highly

gifted souls whom one rarely meets with in a life time. There

was a certain congeniality of thought and ideas which strongly

drew us together, and to each other we poured out our several

trials. Her refined and exalted nature felt most acutely the

trials of convent life. Among her various accomplishments

she excelled in penmanship, and after she received the habit

of the novice, she was retained at the mother-house, and ap-

pointed teacher of ornamental penmanship to the young ladies

of the Academy. So after our three months candidateship

had expired, our intercourse was limited to the few weeks vaca-

tion when the sisters all meet in Madison for the annual re-

treat.

(86)

INSANITY AND REBELLION. 87

The last time I saw her was in July, 1866. Never will I

forget the final words she spoke to me as I was about leaving

again for Hudson City. She clasped my hand and with deep

solemnity of word and manner, said, " Sister, convent life is a

living death which I feel I cannot longer endure, for I shall go

mad. I feel it ! I feel it !" Deeply moved by her words I

replied, " Dear Sister, drive such thoughts from your mind.

It is true that we have realized that conventualism is a system

calculated to destroy the brightest intellect and talent, and root

out of the heart every beautiful and tender feeling ; neverthe-

less, dear sister, the awakening comes too late—too late. Wemust persevere for our soul's sake until the welcome angel of

death comes to our deliverance." She rejoined, " I trust, mysister, that the words I utter against my vocation will not scan-

dalize you; yet I feel that I will never see you again, and I

must speak out to you my convictions ; for to no one else in

the community would I utter them. The enormities which I

witness ' here daily, and the outrageous insults offered to mynature cause my reason to totter on its throne ; and I feel—

I

know, that I shall lose my mind." She then embraced memost affectionately, begging me to pray for her, while her ex-

pressive blue eyes filled with tears, and her beautiful and sen-

sitive lips quivered with emotion as she uttered the words,

" Good bye, my soul's companion ! Good bye forever ! If you

•see me again, I feel that I will be insane—mad." How pro-

phetic were the words ! When I went to the mother-house

again on the retreat of 1867, Sister Virginia was not there

;

88 INSANITY AND KEBELLION.

she was as inmate of the Insane Asylum, at Mount Hope,

Maryland.

Sisters never know what takes place in the different houses of

the order, therefore I was most anxious to learn the cause of

Sister Virginia's insanity, but it being against the rules to make

any inquiries or ask unnecessary questions, I did not dare to in-

quire about her ; however, one of the novices gave me the fol-

lowing account : It was the 22d of June, 18G7, the morning

of the distribution in the Academy, that Sister Virginia was

found by Sister Madeleine at her writing desk, her head buried

in her hands. "When Sister Madeleine spoke to her, she began

to cry and scream, " I am mad ! I'm mad !" During three

days and nights she was unmanageable, and in her ravings re-

proached the sisters with all manner of crimes. When she

became more calm she was attired in worldly clothes and con-

veyed to the Insane Asylum, at Mount Hope. This Asylum

is under the superintendence of the Emmettsburg Sisters of

Charity. The last I heard of her was that she was considered

hopelessly insane ; reason had flown from its beautiful seat, and

that once highly gifted and talented girl is now a mental wreck,

another of the many such victims of that accursed and de-

plorable system of conventualism. Poor Virginia ! could she

have abandoned the loveless, hopeless life she led in the con-

vent, when she first felt the dread foreboding of the sad fate

which came upon her, and returned to the love and care of her

mother, she would have been saved from mental shipwreck

;

but alas ! she was bound by vows winch she would conscien-

tiously keep even at the sacrifice of reason.

INSANITY AND REBELLION. 89

However, several sisters did rebel and leave the Madison

Community, among them was Sister Ann Elizabeth. This

sister was one of the first candidates when the community was

established in the diocese of Newark, in 1859. Sister Ann

Elizabeth is well known in Jersey City, where she was superior

for several years in St. Peter's parish. In the community of

Madison, a council is convened every month for the purpose of-

settling all the difficulties of the order. It is in these councils

sentence is pronounced upon refractory sisters, and all the

secrets of the community discussed. The council consists of

the reverend Mother Xavier and' three sisters next to her in

office, presided over by the Father Superior, who at that time

was Father McQuade. Sister Ann Elizabeth was one of the

sisters who sat in this council. She was an Irish lady possess-

ing great dignity of character, which could not brook anything

de^radin"-. When she was admitted as a member of the coun-

cil, her eyes were opened, and she could not remain a mem-

ber of a community where she knew they did such wicked

things. I remember the last time I saw her was during our

summer vacation in 1866. She came into the study hall, where

the novices and young professed nuns were assembled, and thus

addressed us :" Sisters, I advise every one of you to leave this

abode, and go back to your homes, for I am sure the curse of

God will fall upon this Community on account of the crimes

covered up, and which I as a member of the secret council

know. Sisters, if you knew what I know, you would fly from

here." Sister Ann Elizabeth was very much excited while she

spoke, and we all looked upon her in amazement. Mother

90 INSANITY AND REBELLION.

Xavier came in while sister was speaking, and in the most

bland and sympathetic manner said, " Sisters, I request your

prayers for our dear and worthy Sister Ann Elizabeth, who

has become another victim to insanity. Do not notice what

she is saying—she is crazy." Sister Ann Elizabeth was not

insane, she was in possession of all her mental and physical

I

powers ; she went to Bishop Bayley, and demanded to be dis-

pensed from her vows ; took measures to have the money she

brought to the convent refunded to her, and with it she went

to her friends in Ireland.

Several sisters followed' the example of Sister Ann

Elizabeth, and nfbst of them professed nuns. The following

sisters left the convent in less than two years : Sister Ignatius,

Sister Alphonsus, Sister Seraphina, Sister Jane Frances, Sister

Scholastica, Sister Clara, Sister Ann Maria, Sister Camilla,

and Sister Ann Joseph, whom I introduced to my readers in

Paterson. When she left the convent she had been injidele

a ses voeux de chastete et etait enceinte. Suspicion rested upon

Rev. Father Brann, D. D., formerly of Jersey City, as her

accomplice. Besides these, three sisters became insane, four

died, and others, whose mysterious disappearance was never

accounted for. All those sisters I have mentioned, who left

the convent, remained Catholics, therefore the world will never

know the circumstances which led them to surmount the diffi-

culties of an escape from the unnatural discipline of convent

life, and even if they do not remain Catholics, j^erhaps their

own share in sins will prevent them from denouncing a system

INSANITY AND REBELLION. 91

which is a disgrace to civilization ; but at the judgment day

there will be a fearful unraveling of clerical and monastic

entanglements. That day will unmask to the world the false

hearts of priests and nuns-; and in the hands of a strictly just

God I leave them.

,- sA,-~v Y Y Y * /-y

CHAPTER XV.

REV. WILLIAM M. WALSH.

One Saturday evening in April, 1867, Father Venuta came

into the convent as usual to hear the sisters confession, and

when he was about to depart he turned to me, and in a jesting

manner said, " Seesther, you will have a new priest to-mor-

row—a nice young Irishman." Why did a terrible presenti-

ment of some mighty sorrow overshadow my soul, and with

an icy grasp chill my inmost heart as Father Venuta made

this announcement? "Why was I so oppressed by an unde-

fined weight of impending evil ? Ah ! it was the wierd fore-

shadowing of one of the most bitter trials and cruel wrongs

that ever pierced a pure woman's heart. Let the sequel

show.

On the Sunday of his arrival, Rev. William M. Walsh was

conducted by Father Venuta into the convent, and introduced

to the sisters. When he was presented to me, he extended his

hand which I feigned not to see, because I experienced an un-

accountable shrinking from contact with him. Father Walsh

at that time had been four years a priest, and was just arrived,

in company with five other priests, from Australia, where his

brother, Rev. Thomas Walsh, is also a priest.

(92)

REV. WILLIAM M. WALSH. 93

At the time of my introduction to this man, he was about

twenty-six years of age. In personal appearance he was tall,

graceful, and dignified, possessing a handsome face, and a most

fascinating and winning manner. He had such a meek and

holy expression of countenance that his brother priests called

him the " Angelic," or the " Youthful St. Aloysius." Dear

readers, pity me in this most painfid task of speaking of this

person. Oh, how can I portray to you the depth ot his

treachery ! or recall his perfidy ! The Roman Catholic church

is composed in great part of hypocrites, but Father Walsh was

certainly one of the most consummate hypocrites I ever met, and

yet, it might have been otherwise, were it not for that curse of

society, Romish Celibacy, a system which, instead of twining a

wreath of celestial flowers for Hymen's brow, crushes and

buries the sweetest of all human affections in the grave of

infamy, where the' body and soul perishes. Father Walsh

might have been a bright ornament to society and the world, for

he was possessed of great intellectual capacity. He might have

been a kind, loving, and devoted husband, a tender and indul-

gent parent, for his temperament was most ardent and affec-

tionate. When I speak of the unutterable injury this man

tried to inflict on me, and the cruel persecution and heart-

wrung sorrow he has occasioned me, I blame the accursed

system more than the man. The man I leave with " Him who

willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he be con-

verted and live ;" but the wicked system I deplore and con-

demn.

Father Walsh, after his introduction to me, placed himself

94 REV. WILLIAM M. WALSII.

in my way daily, often spending two hours at a time in my

class-room. His manner was always kind and affectionate,

while he treated me with most profound respect and marked

attention. One day, about six weeks since I first saw him, he

was reviewing my class, and when the exercises were over he

handed me the book, at the same time clasped my hand, and

with an inexpressible tenderness in look and tone, said :" Sis-

ter, I love you—I love you ; O God ! better than my own soul

do I love you /" At these strange, passionate words, I snatched

my hand from his burning clasp, and without uttering a word I

retreated from the school-room, flew to my cell, bolted the door,

and flinging myself on my knees in an agony of grief, prayed for

strength to combat this, the greatest temptation of my life. O

God ! what words had I heard ;" Sister, I love you—more

than my soul I love you !" Oh, how they pierced my inmost

being ! an anointed priest of God had been guilty of uttering

such words to me, a consecrated virgin ! a spouse of Christ

!

Oh, sacrilege, sacrilege ! ! It was a crime for me to listen to

such words. I had made vows to God, and I would be faith-

ful to them, even though* my heart should break in the attempt.

For several days I avoided Father Walsh by retreating from

the class-room as soon as he entered it. Finally he called

after school hours, and requested an interview with me in the

parlor. Tremblingly I went to meet him, praying God to help

me. When I entered the, parlor I was astonished at his hag-

gard appearance and his sad, unhappy look. I said, " Father,

whatever you have to say, speak it quickly, and do not I beg

of you repeat the words you uttered last to me, for I cannot

REV. WILLIAM M. WALSH. 95

listen to them, they are sacrilegious." He replied, a Oh Sister !

dearest sister ! forgive me. I know my words trouble you, but

I must speak them, my heart is breaking ! O my God ! why

did I ever become a priest. Dear Sister, when I first saw you

I loved you, and I have not known a happy moment since, and

I fear never will again. Oh, sweet love, I am fearfully tempt-

ed ! I cannot drive you from my thoughts. In my masses,

prayers, and divine offices, your image comes between me and

my God ! O sister, I cannot help loving you. I do worship

you, and how happy we might be if it were only lawful for us

to be married ! Oh, if you were not a sister, and I were not

a priest !" At these words he wept bitterly, while his frame

shook and trembled with the deepest anguish. In my girlhood

days, before I entered the convent, I had listened to many pro-

fessions of love and proposals cf marriage, but my heart had

never responded to them. I had never loved man, as I felt I

was capable of loving, and I always regarded marriage in such

a pure light, that in order to enter into its sacred cares and re-

sponsibilities I must meet a man to whom I could give all the

deep love of my nature. Such a man I had never met ; and

now when it is too late, when I am forever shut out from all

human love and affection, I am moved for the first time by the

passionate appeal of this man—an appeal which called forth a

pure response from the very depths of my nature. I could

have loved that man, but it was too late. When his emotion

had in a measure subsided, he said, " And now, dear love, tell

me that you love me also." My heart ached while I replied to

him thus : " Father, I am sorry that you have crossed my

5

96 ItEV. WILLIAM M. WALSH

path. Would to God that we had never met ! And now that

we have, we must separate. It is sinful for us to remain in

*.he same place—we can never be anything more to each other

than we are at the present. Are we not both bound by vows,

whose sacred obligations we must fulfil, else forfeit the salva-

tion of our immortal souls ? and if we lose our ' souls what

doth the whole world profit us, or what shall we give in ex-

change for them ! I am sorry, Father, if my words pain you,

but know that my heart is breaking while I conscientiously

speak these words of duty. I have already sinned in listening

to you, and I beg you will never repeat such expressions of

love to me again. I will this day write to Mother Xavier and

beg of her to remove me from here to some other place where

we will not be in danger of meeting each other, and then dear

father, let us hope that we will meet, and be united in heaven."

I then immediately left the parlor—left him weeping, and has-

tened to my cell, and there in mortal anguish which none but

God can ever know, I cast myself at His feet and His holy

Mother's, and with a suffering heart prayed to be delivered

from one of the severest trials that human infirmity can en-

counter, an unlawful love. Oh, the mental conflict I endured

in that terrible struggle between conscience and inclination

!

On one side my poor hungering, perishing human heart was

pleased to know that it had found some one to love, and was

beloved in return. On the other side conscience goaded me,

styling that love a crime, a sin, a sacrilege ! Only those who

have experienced such a conflict can ever know or understand

its meaning.

REV. WILLIAM M. WALSH. 97

I wrote a letter at once to Mother Xavier, explaining to her

my temptation, and imploring her to remove me to another city.

I received no answer to that letter. Father Walsh did not im-

mediately renew the expression of his love verbally, but his

every look and tone exhibited it. I avoided seeing him as much

as I possibly could, and was wretchedly unhappy. Thus

passed two months of the sorest temptation, when I was called

to Madison to make the annual retreat. After the retreat I

went on my knees to Mother Xavier, and pleaded with her for

Christ's sake, and my soul's salvation, not to send me back to

Hudson City, because Father Walsh loved me, and I loved him.

I told her, " I ardently desired to be faithful to my vocation,

and if she would thus remove me from the place of trial, I

might succeed in driving his love from my mind." She laughed

at me, exclaiming, " Indeed, you ought to feel highly honored

to have won the love of such a handsome young priest, but I

guess you only imagine it, and if you are not tried you will

never gain the victory."

" Yes mother, but our Lord says—' those who love danger

shall perish in it,' and if wood is thrown in the fire it will

burn."

She replied, " So you have come to dictate to your superiors

have you ? Is that keeping the vow of obedience, which of the

three vows has supremacy ?" I left her and repaired to the

chapel, and if ever a bursting heart poured forth a fervent

prayer to God, that heart was mine as I cast myself at the foot

of the cross, and begged my heavenly Father, for the sake of

Christ His beloved Son, to save my blood-bought soul, and not

98 REV. WILLIAM M. WALSH.

to place me where I would be tempted beyond my strength.

I made this prayer with so much faith and confidence in God,

that I felt sure He would not place me in danger of losing my

soul. " The ways of the Lord are unsearchable, yet he doeth

all things well." My soul was to be saved through the fiery

crucible of tribulation. God would not permit my soul to be

lost, although I often afterward, in my fearful desolation and

struggle, reproached God for what I then thought was my des-

truction, but which proved in the end my salvation.

After the retreat of July, 1867, I was the only sister sent

back to Hudson City, who had ever been there before. I was

placed in Sister Josephine's office, while she, who had been a

superior in different cities for over seven years, was that year

sent to Trenton, to fill the lowest office in the house there.

Her arbitrary spirit could not brook this humiliation, nor could

her heart bear the trial of being so far removed from her dear

father Senez, in Jersey City, therefore three weeks afterward

she left the convent, went to Jersey City, and assumed the

office of housekeeper to Father Senez, to whom she was so

warmly attached, and causing thereby no little scandal to the

community.

Sister Aloysius, Sister Mary Clare, and Sister Ann Maria

were the sisters sent with me to Hudson City. The action of

Mother Xavier in sending me back to Father Walsh, seemed

by the sequel a vile plot on her part to effect the ruin of my

soul and body, and rob me of the priceless pearl of innocence

which was dearer to me than a thousand lives.

CHAPTER XYI.

MY BROTHER VISITS ME IN HUDSON CITY.

My duties now more than ever brought me in contact with

Father Walsh. I told him after I came back, that as long as

Mother Xavier had treated my entreaties to be removed from

there, with contempt, the only hope remaining was for him to go

to Bishop Bayley and request another parish. This he refused

to do. Father Walsh was not troubled so much as myself with

conscientious scruples. I wondered how he could dare to offer

the sacrifice of the mass, or administer the sacraments, when

his thoughts were fixed on me instead of those sacred duties.

He often repeated his love in the most endearing terms, and

with burning eloquence, begged me to leave the Convent and

go with him to some foreign country and there get married by

a Protestant minister and be happy. He said he could not

live without me ; that I was dearer to him than God or his

soul's salvation, and for my sake he would sacrifice his religion

and his hopes of heaven. I was strictly exact and scrupulously

faithful to my vocation. No unkindness or cruelty on the part

of the sisters could make me abandon it ; even my great love

for my mother or home could not tempt me to leave the Con-

(99)

100 MY BROTHER VISITS ME IN HUDSON CITY.

vent or break the vows upon which I thought my salvation

depended. Purity was my standard above all virtues, and

prizing it more than my life it was in vain he held out such in-

ducements. At that time a marriage by a Protestant minister

appeared to me as null and void, consequently no marriage, a

mere concubinage, another form of degradation and debase-

ment. Moreover, as a strict Catholic, I believed an anointed

priest ought not to think of a woman. " Once a priest always

a priest, according to the order of Melchisedeck ;" and I being

a consecrated virgin to the Lord, viewed the idea of marriage

as utterly impossible as long as I should remain a Catholic. I

clung to my church with all the tenacity which characterizes

sincere Catholics who think there is no salvation outside of the

sacred precincts of their church ; and to throw off a religion

which had been instilled into my heart from infancy and had

become as it were part of my nature, required a miracle of di-

vine grace which at that time I neither looked for nor desired.

I might love Father Walsh because I could not help it, but I

could avoid a life of degradation. No love could make me

sacrifice my honor and virtue.

I felt it was a mere mockery for me to go to confession and

communion while I was continually distracted by the burning

words, tender glances, and loving manner of Father Walsh, for

I was human in every sense of the word despite the unnatural

restraints placed upon me, and my poor humanity groaned and

writhed under its weight of temptation.

At the same time I was also troubled about some articles of

the Catholic faith, especially the " doctrine of transubstantia-

MY BROTHER VISITS ME IN HUDSON CITY. 101

tion." An incident occurred which caused my faith in the

Eucharist to waver. I had charge of making the " hosts,"

which are prepared from an unleavened batter of flour and

water. One Sunday there was a large number of communi-

cants, and the priest, not having enough of " hosts," sent into

the Convent for some more. I had none prepared to send him

immediately, but in about fifteen minutes I sent him two hund-

red. The time, however, for consecration was past, yet the

priest gave the wafers unconsecrated to the people. I after-

ward apologized to the priest for not being able to supply him

in time with the "hosts ;" to which he replied, "It is just as

well, the people did not know the difference." And is there

any difference 2 was a question which filled my soul with doubts.

Was Jesus Christ, as true God and true man, really and sub-

stantially present unde the appearance of bread and wine ?

Was he really hidden in the unleavened " host," with or with-

out consecration?

The priest said it made no difference. Yet my faith had

taught me that as soon as the priest had pronounced over the

" host " the words of consecration, the body of Jesus Christ was

immediately present therein—the same body that was born of

the sacred Virgin, the same that died upon the cross, that was

raised again to life, and sits at the right hand of God the Fa-

ther ; that in a hundred thousand masses which are said through-

out the extent of the whole church in the space of an hour,

God works this miracle only at the moment the priest finishes

the words of consecration.

These were the truths I must believe without embarrassing

102 MY BROTHER VISITS ME IN HUDSON CITY.

myself with curious researches, and yet I had heard a priest,

who had the power to create a God by a few words, say there

was not any difference between the consecrated and unconsecrat-

ed " hosts." This was a great blow to my vivid faith in the Real

Presence, and I struggled against it as a most trying tempta-

tion. To doubt an article of the Catholic faith is a more griev-

ous sin than the commission of a murder, because for the mur-

derer there is the remedy of a good confession and the priest's

absolution ; but for a soul that hesitates to believe, and doubts

the sufficiency of the Catholic faith, there is no salvation. I

trembled at this temptation, and I thought God had forsaken

me and delivered me over to the devil, but blessed be God ! He

gives death and gives life. He conducts even to the gates of

hell, and brings back again to a clearer, truer, and more glori-

ous life.

Added to the numerous temptations which then assailed me

was an internal aridity of spirit which desolated my soul, re-

quiring a most powerful effort of will to keep me in the path

of duty. Assailed by temptations, difficulties, and contradic-

tions from without, and by disgust, torpor, and despair within,

heart-sick, perplexed, afflicted, forsaken, and cast down, I strug-

gled to gain the victory in the contest between nature and

grace, between faith and reason ; but dry and hard as my daily

bread was then, it was sweet in comparison to that of which I

was to partake ere I entered into rest. The cup of bitterness

I had to drink to the very dregs.

In the midst of these internal and external trials I received

a visit from my brother John. On the 20th of November, 1867,

MY BROTHER VISITS ME IN HUDSON CITY. 103

I was called into the parlor to see a young man, without any

idea that it was a brother. I did not know him at first, he was

so changed from the beardless school-boy of sixteen to whom I

bade farewell five years before. I could scarcely believe that

the tall, handsome young man before me was really my brother

John ; and then my poor heart had given up all thoughts of

ever seeing any member of my family. He was on his way to

San Francisco, and while waiting in New York City for the

steamer to sail, had found me out and called to see me. I could

see him unrestricted, for I was then in charge myself. He

questioned me about my happiness, which I assured him was

complete in being the spouse of Christ, and that nothing on

earth could exceed the joy I experienced as the bride of the

King of kings. How in the very depths of my heart I despised

myself for practising such dissimulation, in the very time, too,

when I seemed to be lost in an impenetrable wilderness of mid-

night darkness, hedged in on all sides by thorns and briars from

which I tried to extricate myself only to become more and

more entangled, pierced, and torn ! I tried to look heaven-

ward, but only to find black, black darkness, no light, no ray of

hope, no escape, yet I dared to utter a falsehood, and tell my

brother Iwas happy.

Brother spoke to me of my home, and all its loved ones

;

spoke to me of my darling mother, told me of her grief because

I was gone from her ; of her anxiety when she could not hear

from me, and of her anguish that she could not see me. Oh,

my mother ! if I could have seen you, and spoken to you of my

temptations, my trials, my difficulties at that time, you might

104 MY BROTHER VISITS ME IN HUDSON CITY.

have saved your daughter from the precipice upon which she

was standing, you would have shielded her from the fearful tem-

pest which was about to burst in fury upon her unprotected

head! John sailed on the 21st of November, for California.

The following letter was written by him to my parents just be-

fore his departure, and was afterwards given me by my sister

Gertrude :

St. Nicholas Hotel,

New York, November 20th, 1867.

Dear Parents.—I wish to imform you that I have seen

my sister. She is in Hudson City, N. J. I went to Paterson,

and the sisters told me she had gone from there three years

ago. I had considerable difficulty in finding her, but was repaid

an hundred fold for the trouble—the very sight of her would

have been sufficient reward. She is the very image of happi-

ness and contentment. She was overjoyed to see me ; kissed

and embraced me, and I did the same ; and why should I not ?

my own dear sister ! my beautiful sister ! She is really happy.

She is Superior there, and the people think everything of her

;

they venerate her ; and who could do otherwise ? I was not

aware that I loved her so much. I found it a task to come

away with a heart at all. I had the pleasure of her company

for three or four hours, and we talked volumes in that time.

They were the happiest hours of my life. I gave her Gertrude's

picture, mother's, and my own. O ! I cannot paint the scene

that took place when she saw mother's picture. Dear parents,

she looked as beautiful as ever, with her large deep blue eyes,

MY BROTHER VITITS ME IN HUDSON CITY. 105

bright golden hair, and holy, mild expression. She is looking

as hearty and rosy as ever, and there is nothing feigned—it is

all so real. Oh, how affectionate and kind ! she carries an in-

describable charm with her. I am told that the women of the

place, when they meet her, kneel down and ask her blessing.

Let it be remembered, that our interview was witnessed by no

third person. Please send this letter to Gertrude, in Boston.

She wishes to see Gertrude, and wants her to come and see her,

or else write to her. Direct to Sister Teresa de Chantal, St.

Joseph's Convent, Hudson City, N. J. She sends her kindest

love to all. If nothing happens I sail to-morrow. Good-bye,

and pray for your Affectionate Son,

John Sarsfield O'Gorman.

Farewell for a few ocean weeks."

From the tenor of this letter it is plainly seen how well I

succeeded in deceiving him, and how completely I hid from

him my true condition. Although I suffered in the deception,

still I could not let my brother know that I was miserably un-

happy in the life I had voluntarily chosen. And thus it is that

many Catholics are deceived in the true condition of their

friends and relatives who are pining uncomplainingly in their

prison home ; but God had decreed that one day I should lay

bare Convent hypocrisy, lift the veil, and let all the world know

the hidden crimes of the sanctuary.

CHAPTER XVII.

MY ESCAPE.

Almost driven to desperation by the importunities of Father

Walsh, I sent the following letter to Mother Xavier, of which

I carefully preserved a copy :

"Hudson City, December 15th, 1867.

In the hearts of Jesus and Mary.

Dear Mother : Once again I address you in order to beg

of you to remove me from the terrible temptations which sur-

round me here. i My soul is sorrowful even unto death.' Will

you not have pity upon me, and take me .away from Father

Walsh ? How can I worthily receive the sacraments, when by

my weekly confessions I must accuse myself of listening to ex-

pressions of an unlawful love—a sacrilegious love? and how can

I avoid it as long as you permit me to remain near the occasion ?

Now, Mother, I beg of you for Christ's sake, for religion's sake,

and for my soul's sake, to remove me from this awful danger.

I wish to be faithful until death to my vocation, and I beg of

you to listen to my prayer, and remove me from this heavy

cross.

Yours in the hearts of Jesus and Mary,

Sister Teresa de Chantal."

. Q06)

MY ESCAPE. 107

To this letter I received the following reply :

—

" St. Elizabeth's, Madison, Dec. 28th, 1867

Sister Teresa de Chantal :

My Child—Your last letter to me shows a very rebellious

and unresigned spirit. Remember, Father Walsh is a holy

priest of God, and will do nothing wrong ; he knows better

than you what is a sin and what is not. I am sorry that you

are not in a more tranquil state of mind. Remember, the will

of your superiors is that of God, and they will you to remain

where you are. Your Mother in Christ,

Mother Mary Xavier."

From this letter my readers can see I had nothing to expect

from the woman whose will I was bound to obey. Every day

Father Walsh's protestations became more ardent. I entreated

him, if he loved me, to prove that love by keeping away from

me, and not to see me at all. I represented to him the anguish

his expressions of love occasioned me ; I pointed out to him

his infidelity to his sacred obligations, which he seemed to hold

very lightly, as he so often urged me to leave the convent and

go With him. However, a crisis was at hand which would

change the whole course of my life, brought about by Father

Walsh attempting one of the most appalling crimes that has

ever called for retributive justice at the hands of injured hu-

manity. Oh, how can I speak of it ? how recall it ? how ex-

press the untohl anguish, the awful suffering I afterwards

endured, which resulted in my being torn away from my close

108 MY ESCAPE.

membership in the Catholic religion, a religion which had been

indeed part of myself.

The 19th of January, 1868, came on Simday. I was per-

forming my usual office of Sacristan, and at seven o'clock in

the evening was engaged in the church removing the vesper

decorations from the altar, and adorning it for the morning's

early mass. While thus employed Father Walsh came in and

knelt down on the altar steps as if in prayer. He then came

behind the altar where I was arranging some flowers into bou-

quets, which were intended to ornament the tabernacle, and

pulling a small pocket-flask out of his pocket, said, " Dear sis-

ter, I notice you have a very bad cough, I have bought some

cordial for you, which is a sure remedy ; I am confident it will

do you good, and I wish you would try some of it now, dearest."

At the same time he poured some of the " cordial " into an

ablution glass and offered me to drink. With all the simplicity

of innocence I drank what he gave me. In a few moments I

experienced such a feeling of numbness that I was obliged to

stagger to a chair to avoid falling, and then an unconsciousness

or stupor came upon me from which I awakened much sooner

than the would-be destroyer anticipated, and thus he was pre-

vented from carrying out his base design of accomplishing that

most outrageous of crimes, viol.

The Lord had saved me, but O God ! what an awakening

!

what a revelation ! what a wrong had been attempted ! A mar

who had professed such an undying love, a man whom I had

trusted, a man anointed of the Lord, a holy priest who daily

handled, ate, and drank the body and blood, soul and divinity

MY ESCAPE. 109

of Jesus Christ, had, in the very presence of the Blessed

Sacrament, before the holy Tabernacle, under the Lamp of the

Sanctuary, in the house of God, attempted the most atrocious

of crimes—to desecrate a consecrated virgin !Oh, what a dis-

grace to humanity ! What a sacrilegious crime ! No wonder

my brain was crazed. No wonder I rushed from the church

frenzied, distracted, mad. No wonder I became deranged in

comprehending the horrible enormity of such a crime. All is

a blank in my memory from the time I rushed out of the church

until Saturday, the 25th of January, when I came back to con-

sciousness. I afterwards learned from Sister Aloysius, that

on that terrible Sunday evening, at about eight o'clock, I rushed

into the community-room with the most heart-rending look of

despair and horror depicted on my face, and there gave way to

the most incontrollable grief she had ever witnessed. She

called in Dr. Hays, Senior, of Hudson City, who told her I was

threatened with insanity, the result of some terrible shock. She

immediately telegraphed to Mother Xavier, who sent back a

dispatch ordering me to be conveyed in a carriage to Madison.

Heartless woman ! she was obliged to remove me at last. I

became so unmanageable in the carriage that the sisters were

compelled to stop at the Orphan Asylum, in South Orange; and

it was there I found myself on the 25th, when I awoke again

to consciousness. The horror of the crime attempted, and the

effect of the drugs administered, produced a temporary insanity,

but the agony I endured, the injury I sustained, was enough to

derange almost the strongest mind, situated as I had been, be-

yond the hope of a recovery.

HO MY ESCAPE.

I went to confession in South Orange and told the priest the

fearful crime which had been attempted ; and that man, ap-

pointed a spiritual guide to souls, chided me for making such a

noise about it, because a man was not responsible for what he

did when blinded by passion, and therefore it was not a crime,

and I must not take it to heart as one. Such were the words

addressed to my sinking, perishing soul, by a holy priest of the

church. Such the excuse offered in palliation for a crime that

would disgrace the evil one himself. Priests and sisters seemed

linked together for my destruction.

On the following Monday, Mother Xavier came from Madi-

son to see me, and finding me apparently well, she said, " Well,

well, the idea ! Why, De Chantal, I thought you were sick

!

Indeed, it's only putting on airs you are ! the idea of a Sister

of Charity putting on airs, and making believe crazy. Well,

well, come now, put on your bonnet and go with me. You are

worth a dozen crazy sisters yet ! The idea of you cutting up

so !" and she continued bantering me in the above style for

some time. I made myself ready to accompany her, thinking

she was going to take me to Madison ; but no, wicked woman !

she takes me back again to Hudson City. Could anything be

more malevolent than this action of Mother Xavier's ? Can

anything be more inhuman than to take a wounded, frightened

lamb, and re-thrust it into the jaws of the wolf? than to thrust

a child, all burned and blistered, back into the fire ? Thus my

lacerated heart was thrust back to be relacerated.

On Tuesday, the 28th, Father Walsh had the audacity to

come into the convent, and, without ceremony walked up stairs

MY ESCAPE. Ill

into the community-room where I was. The sight of him so

maddened me that I cannot remember what he said, I think it

was something about forgiveness, and that he could not live

without me. I ordered him out of my presence ; called Sister

Aloysius, and told her to go down to Jersey City and tell

Mother Xavier, if she did not come and take me away I would

expose the Community. Mother Xavier, who had remained

in Jersey City all night came up again to Hudson City, and for

the first time I rebelled against obedience, and vehemently de-

nounced her command. I also appealed to Father Venuta,

who told her to take me to Newark, for two or three weeks,

until I became more tranquil, but that then she must send me

back again because the people of Hudson City could not get

along without the " leetle Seesther.'' Accordingly, on Thurs-

day, the 30th, Mother Xavier left me in Newark where I was

to remain until I should become " more tranquil."

" Man proposes, but God disposes." The next Friday morn-

ing I was sent to teach in St. Patrick's Parochial School, some

little distance from the Newark Convent. How could I teach

with my brain on fire, my heart bleeding, my soul in agony !

I was desperate and not responsible for anything I might do.

My soul abhorred the priests ; they were vipers. I condemned

the sisters, and the convent as all defilement. I could not

remain there longer ; the very thought was unendurable ! I

would fly—escape—but where ? and would not my soul be

eternally damned if I abandoned my vocation ? All ! and

would it not be also damned if I remained in the convent ? If

so I would rather be damned out of the convent than in it

112 MY ESCAPE.

Therefore, wild with excitement, I donned my bonnet and

shawl, appointed a monitress over my class, and turned my

back on convent life, forever. On the porch of the school-

house I met Rev. George Doane, who accosted me with & fas-

cinating " good morning, Sister." He did not notice that I

was alone, a very unusual thing for a Sister, as she must always

have a companion with her, if only a child. Of course the affa-

ble, effeminate, and boyish Father Doane never suspected that

I was running away from the convent, else he would not have

permitted me to depart so unceremoniously without bidding

him farewell, at least. I did not premeditate the step I took

that stormy January day, else I would have made better pro-

vision. Goaded to desperation I only thought of escaping

from the hateful presence of priests and nuns, and with five

dollars which a servant girl gave me in Hudson City as a New

Year's gift, I fled in midwinter, out into the world, without

shelter, without protection ; but better that than the abode of

vipers and a life of sin.

I knew not where I was fleeing. I cared not ; O, anywhere,

anywhere out of the Convent ! I asked a child I met on the

street to accompany me to some depot, and I found myself on

board of a train, without a ticket, without even knowing the

destination of the train until the conductor told me Philadel-

phia. Not until I found myself in room 91, Continental Hotel,

Philadelphia, where my name is registered as Sister EditL

Crafton, not daring to register Sister T. De Chantal for fear of

being recaptured, without money and in my nun's dress, did I

fully realize my true position. I had been borne up durino-

MY ESCAPE. 113

the day by an unnatural state of excitement, but when that had

passed away and I was free from pursuit, I felt to the full ex-

tent my desolate, destitute, and miserable condition. I paced

my room all night ; my heart seemed rent asunder with con-

flicting reflections. I had fled the Convent—by one step had

thrown off all restraint of vows and vocation which had chained

me for so many suffering years. Oh, fearful reflection ! I was

by so doing doomed to perdition. Thus it appeared then, blind

votary that I was. If I had only thrown off the delusion years

before I would have been spared a world of woe.

I remember that night, the 31st of January, 1868, was the

first time I had beheld my face in a mirror for nearly six years,

and oh, what a change ! I did not know myself, and repeatedly

asked the reflection in the glass, " Is that Edith O'Gorman ?

is it Sister Teresa de Chantal, or who is it ? What is it ? AmI crazy or dreaming, living or dead ?" Having been buried in

the Convent so long I knew nothing of the world, especially

such a world as I found myself then in, without money, without

shelter, without friends, without protection. What was I to do ?

Where could I go ? What would become of me ? But He

who clothes the lily of the valley had me in His care, and He

did not let me perish. I knelt down and prayed ; and then

the thought occurred to me to write to Bishop Wood, the bishop

of Philadelphia ; I did so, requesting an interview, and sent the

letter to him in the morning by one of the waiters. In the

afternoon I saw him, and under the seal of the Confessional (he

could not take any step to have me sent back to the Convent

from any knowledge he might receive through the Confessional

114 MY ESCAPE.

without breaking his auricular oath,) told him who I was, and

what I had done. Owing to the fact that Bishop Wood had

been brought up a Quaker he treated me kindly ; and he tried

" to persuade me to go back to the Convent, or else retire into

one in his diocese. I refused to comply with his request, I

would try to save my soul in the world, but on no condition

would I immure myself again in a Convent, to meet, perhaps,

a repetition of such wrongs as I had experienced.

Bishop Wood gave me money which enabled me to change

the nun's dress for a secular garb ; and he also recommended

me to go to confession every week to Rev. Xavier Schnuttgen,

a Redemptionist father, belonging to St. Peter's Monastery,

corner of Fifth Street and Girard Avenue. I had an interview

with the latter, who sent me to board in a private French

Catholic family, at No. 1336 Coates St. Father Schnuttgen

told me never to tell a living soul that I had ever been a nun,

on account of the scandal it would bring upon the church ; he

said I must pass for a " widow." I told him " I could not do

that inasmuch as the only husband I ever had was God, and

He certainly was not dead." He then counseled me to pass

for an orphan, which I could more readily do, as no orphan's

fate could be more desolate ; and as such he introduced me,

February 8th, to a lady from Boston, in order that I might

give her instruction in the Catholic Decalogue, as she was

about to join the Catholic Church.

Oh, what a school for prevarication, and deviation from the

straight-forward path of truth and virtue, is the whole system

of Catholicism ! How grievously lamentable that the ground-

MY ESCAPE. 115

work of any faith should be so unpropitkms to the nourishment

of truth and virtue ! A priest, by his vow of Celibacy, cannot

take a wife, nor lawfully exercise the rite of a parent, but he

can approach a virgin ; can pander to every illicit pleasure ;

can unfeelingly burden the world with his miserable offspring

;

for, is not the door of penance open to him through the key-

hole of the Confessional ? and does not that give him the pass

port to salvation? The world is injured both by his excesses

and abstemiousness. If he keeps his vow, it may be suicidal to

health ; if he breaks it, there is poured from the sanctuaries of

the church one of the most demoralizing streams of perdition

—

an effluvium sending out the poison of death

!

The Romish Church teaches that God has ordained celibacy

as the very acme of the Cardinal virtues ; but who can recog-

nize a God ordaining any law to deteriorate the race—to de-

stroy a proper sentiment ? even when one is a most suitable

subject for celibacy, how is it with another having the natural

amount of sympathy for all that is physical in human nature

—

with warm affections rounding into passion, what is his fate ? It

is by the infamous endeavor to feed his appetency under the

hypocritical garb of sanctity, and at the same time stand un-

blushingly on the altar before the tabernacle of God, raising

the chalice of salvation in atonement for the people who inno-

cently trust him—nay, worship him, that God and man are

disgraced by this celibate's deformity of soul, of mind, and of

principle. His hypocrisy may be a life-time augmenting the

cess-pools of the Confessional, and in thus disburdening his

116 MY ESCAPE.

guilty conscience, a clique of men become copartners in his

offence, by the protection their auricular oath extends to him

and themselves.

Ah ! if the secret annals of priestly archives could be laid

bare to the world, what a blotch would be blazoned on the

brow of Rome !

!

CHAPTER XVIII.

SICK AMONG STRANGERS.

Three weeks after I left the convent I was prostrated on &

bed of sickness. My heart had been so oppressed and crushed

by its terrible weight of grief, that it gave way, and a violent

spasmodic action ensued, accompanied with fever, which brought

me to death's door. My illness continued for several weeks,

and, dear reader, language cannot express the woe, the hope-

less desolation which overwhelmed me. I prayed for death

;

prayed that I might lose my mind, and cease to be sensible to

the accumulation of sorrow which had blighted my life. Only

twenty-five years of age, and a broken-hearted fugitive, thrown

upon the cold mercies of a selfish world. I was sick, and as

I thought dying among strangers, without a hope of salvation,

without a ray of heavenly light. O God ! how vain appeared

all my self-sacrifice in the light of eternity ! and oh, those long

years of suffering were all lost ! So much penance and self-

denial ! My life a dreary, desolate blank—no certainty, no

hope in death—all dark, all dark ! Where then was my heav-

enly Spouse, for whom I died to the world? Where all the

meritorious works I had done ? Did they comfort me then ?

Q17J

118 SICK AMONG STRANGERS.

Ah! no. In the clear light of eternity the delusions which

had so long clouded my mental vision were dissipated. What

terrible destiny consigned me, as I then thought, to die among

strangers, far from my home, far from my mother, who in the

hour of sickness would have tenderly hovered near me, minis-

tered to my wants, and soothed my dying agony ? But there

was no mother near to cradle me in her arms ; no father's pres-

ence to cheer and strengthen me ; no sister's face to smile upon

me ; not a single glimpse of the dear forms that gladdened my

once happy home. And then beyond the tomb I had no hope,

no looking to the merits of Christ, to the atoning blood of Cal-

vary's sacrifice. Oh, what inexpressible terror, dismay, and

darkness, for a soul entering into eternity with no hope in

Christ, no hope in aught save goodself, which in the last hour

dwindles away into the meanest insignificance ! God had the

keeping of my immortal soul, and in His infinite mercy he

plucked the burning brand, and snatched my soul from the

yawning gulf.

One day I awoke again to life, and the first object my con-

scious eyes rested upon, was Father Walsh standing by my

bedside weeping. When I could rally strength sufficient I

enquired how he found me, and why he dared to come near

me ? Mrs. Willt, the lady with whom I boarded, discovered

from my feverish ravings that there was a Father Walsh in

Hudson City, whom I spoke about, and fearing that I might

die, had telegraphed to him that I was dying, and he had come

to behold her whom he had caused to fly from a convent and

take refuge among strangers, and his heart was saddened to

SICK AMONG STRANGERS. 119

see my misery. He said he also had suffered, when he learned

that I ran away from the convent without leaving a clue to my

whereabouts, and he supposed I had committed self-destruc-

tion, until three months after my flight he had received the tele-

gram from Mrs. Willt. I will do this man justice when I say

that he never acted other than in the most tender, chaste, and

respectful manner afterward, never ceasing to deplore his at-

tempted wrong to me—and I forgave him.

In order that no suspicion might . rest upon him as a priest,

he passed for my uncle. He engaged Dr. Shurtz to attend me,

and every attention that money could bestow I received. And

then I learned that he had a sister in Philadelphia, a widow

lady named Mrs. Margaret Sullivan, who in comfortable cir-

cumstances resided in South Sixteenth St. I think her num-

ber is 967 ; however, her residence was four or five doors from

the corner of Carpenter Street. During my convalesence2

Father Walsh came from Hudson City to see me twice a week,

always returning the same day, and when I was sufficiently

recovered he introduced me to his sister, Mrs. Sullivan, who

treated me with great kindness. When my strength permitted,

I again went to confession to Father Schnuttgen, where a cir-

cumstance occurred which prevented me from going to that

Monastery again. A large fleshy German brother opened

the Monastery door in response to my summons. I asked to

see Father Schnuttgen. The brother told me he was engaged

giving instruction to a lady in one of the parlors. There are

in that Monastery four parlors or reception rooms, arranged

two on each side of the hall, and at the end of the hall is the

6-

120 SICK AMONG STRANGERS.

grated entrance to the Monks' inclosure, and no secular is

allowed to cross its threshold. The brother conducted me into

a reception room, on the left-hand side of the entrance from the

street, telling me Father Schnuttgen would see me when dis-

engaged. The brother, instead of retiring then, remained too"o

converse with me, remarking he had not seen me in several

weeks, and inquired if I had been ill, because 1 looked pale.

I told him I came near dying, and requested him to pray for

me, because I was afraid I had lost my vocation, and could not

be saved. He replied, " yes ! you will go to heaven, you

are so good, so nice !" he then came near me, and before I was

aware of his intention, stooped down and tried to kiss me, at

which I screamed and ran out in the hall. Father Schnuttgen

hearing the scream came out into the hall, and asked, '' What

is the matter?" I responded indignantly, pointing to the

brother who stood in the parlor door, " Ask that brother!"

Father Schnuttgen took me into the confessional, and in the

sternest manner rebuked me. He said I was too particular,

and that the brother meant no harm, and that I had sinned

grievously by screaming, thereby bringing scandal into the

Monastery. With an audacity that alarmed me, I told him I

believed priests were all bad, and all they cared for was not to

be discovered. I left the confessional without waiting for his

absolution, and turned my back on that Monastery forever.

This happened in May, 18G8.

Father Walsh wished me to leave Coates street, and reside

with his sister, where he could see me often. I declined to

leave Mrs. Willt. He then said, " sister, you have left the con-

SICK AMONG STRANGERS. 121

vent, and are now free ; come with me to where we are not

known, I will then throw off the priesthood, and become a

Professor. We can get married by a Protestant minister, and

in a life-long love and devotion, I will repair the fearful suffer-

ing I have occasioned you." I told him that although I had

left the convent and had discovered the hypocrisy of priests,

nevertheless I could not cease to be a Catholic, and as such I

could not look upon a Protestant marriage, especially to an

anointed priest, in any other lighfe than as degradation ; and as

nothing can justify a woman in becoming that most wretched

of all beings, I would rather live and die a fugitive. I would

rather submit to starvation than ever lead a life of debasement.

I told him to drive such thoughts from his mind forever, be-

cause I had taken a resolution to go far away where he could

never see me again on earth, a step designed for both his sal-

vation and mine; that I had a cousin who was Lady Abbess

of a Presentation Nunnery in Killarney, Ireland, and I would

go to her if he would supply me with the means, and if he

truly loved me he would not refuse." I advised him at the

same time to " shut himself up in an austere Monastery where

he could never see a woman, and there do penance for his

great sin ; and in thus living to God arid religion we would

finally meet in heaven, never more to be parted." He unwil-

lingly gave his consent to this proposition, and I made prepar-

ations to go to Ireland, and on the 10th of June, in compli-

ance with Father Walsh's request, I sent a telegram to Bessie

Murray, his housekeeper, telling her to meet me in the Jersey

City Depot at 5 p.m. of that day. She did, and at the request

122 SICK AMONG STRANGERS.

of Father "Walsh, took me to the Pacific House, in Greenwich

Street, New York. Mrs. Keogh, the housekeeper in that hotel,

was an acquaintance of Father Walsh, and he called to see me

the next day, introducing me to her as his sister from Phila-

delphia. I told Father Walsh that I could not go to Ireland

without seeing my parents once again, but I would never tell

them anything I had suffered. If they were ignorant of my

iinhappiness, I would never undeceive them. Having request-

ed him to engage my passage to Ireland, I took the Stoning-

ton boat for home on the evening of the 11th of June, 18G8.

Words cannot describe my feelings upon beholding again

that home to which six years before I had bade farewell as I

thought forever. Neither can I paint the scene that took place

in that home at my return. After long suffering, years of sep-

aration, I was once more clasped in my darling Mother's arms;

and my dear father pressed to his heart his long absent, and as

he thought, lost (to earth) daughter. I cannot speak of that

meetmg ! Six years before I had left that home in all the hap-

piness, brightness, hopefulness, trustfulness, and innocence of

my girlhood, only to return from the sanctuary of the convent,

with happiness wrecked, life blighted, heart crushed, trust be-

trayed, hope fled, but,' thank God, innocence preserved. With

that prevarication which I had learned in the convent, I hid

everything from my parents. My conscience as a Catholic;

forbade me to make any disclosure which would bring scandal

on priests or religious.

My parents were staunch Catholics, and would not believe,

even from my own lips, the awful truth. They were consoled

SICK AMONG STRANGERS. 123

by the thought that I was content with convent life—and I

would noi undeceive them ; moreover as Catholics, with all

their affection for me, they would rather see me dead than have

me abandon a vocation to which they thought I had been spec-

ially called by God. Whatever fears they entertained I dis-

armed, by telling them that, in order to acquire greater sanc-

tity, I had permission to retire into a more austere and seclud-

ed convent, and having obtained the consent of superiors, I

had come to see them before I cut off every avenue of further

communication with them ; and then I left them.

I will not attempt to portray that parting. Ah, my parents !

why did you suffer me to leave the protection of your home,

to be tossed about in a sea of misery, of persecution, of defa-

mition, of calumny, and of slander? But who could foresee

the dangers, the snares and pitfalls, which were set for my de-

struction, or who conceive the desolation, destitution, and hard-

ships which awaited me ? After I parted from home 1 went

to Boston to see my sister Gertrude. I learned from her that

after she had received the letter which brother John had writ-

ten home about me, she started on the 17th of March, 1868,

to see me. She called at St. Joseph's Convent, Hudson City,

and inquired for Sister Teresa de Chantal. Sister Aloysius

told her she could not see me, because I was at the mother-

house in Madison, and moreover, it being the season of Lent,

sisters were forbidden to see their friends. My sister replied

she would go to Madison, and demand to see me, as she was

determined not to go back without an interview. Sister

Aloysius became alarmed at this expression of perseverance,

and finally told her that it was impossible for her to see me,

124 SICK AMONG STRANGERS.

because six weeks before I ran away in the nun's dress, and

they had not the slightest clue to my fate. My sister was

amazed at the untruthfulness of Sister Aloysius, and she turned

from the convent with a sickening horror creeping into her very

soul.

Although from conviction Gertrude had ceased to be a com-

municant in the Catholic Church, she yet thought convents

were the abode of holy women who would not stoop to false-

hood. Almost stupefied by what she had heard, she could not

go to her home and tell her parents that the daughter who had

" chosen the better part," was not in the convent, and no clue

to her whereabouts existed—therefore she returned to Boston

without letting my parents know anything about my disappear-

ance. She suffered alone ! I felt that I could not entirely

deceive Gertrude, so I told her I had run away from the con-

vent to escape a priest who wTas tormenting me with professions

of love ; but I did not breathe to her the crime he attempted.

I told her I was going to Killarney to enter the convent with

my cousin—and thus I parted with her.

The managers of the convent did not dare to advertise for

me lest it should lead to discoveries which would bring scandal

on their community. No effort being made to clear up the

mystery, a suspicious silence was left hanging over it all—but

the Lord of the Universe has said, " There is nothing hidden

that shall not be revealed." They who are chief ministers in

such wickedness will yet be divested of their borrowed plumes

;

and the rottenness and corruption of their system, that whited

sepulchre ! shall become a spectacle to angels and to men.

CHAPTER XIX.

MY VOYAGE TO IRELAND.

From Boston I wrote to Bessie Murray, who met me on the

morning of the 10th of July, and took me to the Stevens

House, in Broadway, telling me Father Walsh had made every

arrangement for my departure on Saturday, the day following.

Father Walsh called at the Stevens House, Friday noon, I

saw him in the ladies' parlor, for about one hour ; he was very

sad, and suffering from neuralgia in the face* He told me Dr.

Hays, Sr., of Hudson City, was going to Ireland on a visit,

and that he had placed me under his protection in the Steamer

Hibernia, of the Anchor Line. He then left me, saying he

would be over in the morning with my ticket and the check

for my baggage. On Saturday morning Bessie Murray called

and informed me that Father Walsh was very sick, and it was

quite impossible for him to go out in the morning, but that he

would accompany Dr. Hays on the tugboat in the afternoon,

and meet me on the steamer. Father Walsh had given Bessie

$100 to purchase a first cabin ticket in the Hibernia, but she,

impelled by a spirit of malice, for which I could never account,

purchased a steerage ticket in the City of Baltimore, of the

Inman line.

(125)

126 MY VOYAGE TO IRELAND.

Without suspecting any foul play, I accompanied Bessie, who

instead of taking me on board the Hibernia at Pier 20, North

river, took me to Pier 45, and hurried me on board the City

of Baltimore, assuring me that Father Walsh would come in

the tugboat at twelve o'clock, in company with Dr. Hays. Not

until the steamer anchored at quarantine to wait for the tug-

boat, which was to bring the mail and some cabin passengers,

did I discover the fraud that woman had practiced upon me.

She had hurried me away from the hotel without a breakfast,

and not having partaken of much food since I left Boston, the

sea air had sharpened my appetite, and I felt weak with

hunger.

From the time I went on board the steamer I sat on the

cabin deck alone and desolate. I was attired in the deepest

mourning, a long crape veil concealing my face from the many

curious glances directed toward me. I had noticed two priests

on board who watched me closely. Finally one of them drew

near and thus accosted me :" Sister V At the word sister I

gave an involuntary start of surprise. The priest, noticing my

confusion, laughed and said, " I knew by your appearance you

were a sister in disguise, although the Bishop whom you see

over thene wrould have it that you were a widow

!

,:

He sat down beside me, and I told him I had run away

from the convent.

This priest introduced himself to me as Father Flannery of

New London, Canada, and told me he was going on a visit to

his friends in Ireland, in company with his Bishop. He then

MY VOYAGE TO IRELAND. 127

gave me an introduction to Bishop Walsh of New London,

Canada.

I finally became so faint that I went down to the ladies'

saloon to have some lunch. The Stewardess, a lar^e coarse

looking Irish woman, came in, and before she gave me anything

to eat, asked to see the number of my berth. I handed her

my ticket, not dreaming that it was a steerage passage, when

she looked at the ticket, she almost kicked me out of the saloon,

at the same time calling, " James, take this woman to the

steerage." "James" came and conducted me down a dark

hole where there were assembled a number of dirty men, dirty

women, and dirty children, with any amount of dirty mattresses,

tin cups and kettles. And what did it all mean ? I could not

understand why I should be thrust down a steerage, without

even a dirty mattress or tin cup necessary to the passage. I

ran away in spite of " James," and made my way back to the

cabin deck. I told Father Flannery the unaccountable treat-

ment I had received, showing him my ticket. He informed

me that the Steamer Hibernia had just passed us, and then

went with me to the ladies' saloon, and made the stewardess

give me some lunch. After conversing some time with Bishop

Walsh, he advised me to go back on the tugboat if Father

Walsh should not come. The tugboat came, but no Father

Walsh. Father Flannery accompanied me on board the tug-

boat, and I noticed two more priests among the cabin passen-

gers who went on board the Steamer. One of them I recog-

nized as Father McKenna, of New York City, but being deeply

veiled he did not recognize me. When I arrived in New York

128 MY VOYAGE TO IRELAND.

I went back to the Stevens House, and wrote a letter to

Father Walsh demanding an explanation of the events of the

day. He came to the hotel Monday morning, the loth of July,

and I saw him in the parlor ; he said that Bessie had made a

mistake, and secured a ticket for me on the wrong boat ; that

the cabin passage in the Inman line was more expensive than

the Anchor line, and she not having money enough, had pur-

chased a steerage ticket. He said further, that it had caused

him a great deal of pain and trouble, and he had sent a large

sum of money in gold by Rev. Father McKenna, of New

York, for me, on the City of Baltimore, as Bessie had told him

the name of the steamer, and that he had also tried to go on

board the tugboat, but was prohibited because he had no pass.

Bessie Murray told me herself afterward, that she had put

me on the wrong boat purjiosely, because she was afraid I

would tell Dr. Hays about Father Walsh, and she would

" rather put her soul in hell than suffer any harm to come to

poor dear Father Walsh, because she loved him." I was anx-

ious to depart in the first steamer that sailed, therefore on

Tuesday afternoon, Father Walsh came to the hotel and gave

me a cabin ticket in the steamer Propontis, of Tapscott and

Brothers, Pier 45 East River. He promised to meet me on

board the steamer, (which sailed at two p. m.) at twelve o'clock,

and give me some money in gold. I had lost my baggage, as

it had been sent on board the Hibernia, and I was quite desti-

tute, but Father Walsh said he would send Bessie to purchase

me a trunk, and some garments ready made, and send them on

board the Propontis.

MY VOYAGE TO IRELAND. 129

On Wednesday, the 15th of July, 18G8, at ten A. m., I left

the hotel in a carriage, and went on board the Propontis.

About one half hour after I embarked, the vessel sailed. Oh,

the indescribable despair of that moment ! The ship was sailing,

and I had no money, no clothes, nothing ! In my wild grief I

ran to the first man I met, who happened to be the chief stew-

ard, and asked him if he would not " please to stop the steamer,

or else send me ashore in a boat ?" Captain Higginson tried

to console me, assuring me that my " friend " would send the

money to the office of the company in Liverpool, England, and

I would get it as soon as I arrived. He was sorry the boat

sailed before the appointed hour, but it could not be avoided, etc.

The captain introduced me to the only lady cabin passenger on

board, Mrs. Captain Burnell. I went down into my stateroom,

where I was detained by sea-sickness and physical prostration

for thirteen long dreary days and nights. I believe I should

have died on that vova^e were it not for the kind care of the

chief steward, William Matthias. God bless him ! he was

indeed the good Samaritan of the vessel to me. Out on the

wide ocean without a friend or home. Oh, the terrible anguish

of a soul, all, all alone I

CHAPTER XX.

ALONE IN A FOREIGN LAND: MY RETURN.

On the 28th of July the steamer Propontis sailed into the

docks of Liverpool, England. The passengers left the ship, but

I remained on board alone. I had no other shelter. I was

again cast, a poor waif of humanity, on the mercy of strangers.

What was I to do ? Where to go ? Oh, intolerable questions !

I had no money, not even a change of linen, and the wide

ocean stretched between me and my few friends. There was

no help for it. Cold charity must be entreated, reluctant sym-

pathy importuned, and perhaps countless repulses incurred,

before my tale of woe would be listened to, or one of my wants

relieved. Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt

!

may your eyes never shed such scalding, heart-wrung tears

!

may you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and

agonized, as then left my lips ! Never may you experience

such poignant grief, such a forlorn abandonment, which, in that

foreign land, overwhelmed me.

The chief steward was the only person who partly understood

my forlorn condition, and he was a poor man with a wife and

tour children depending on him. To him I made known my

(130)

ALONE IN A FOREIGN LAND. 131

intentions. I really did not wish to go to Ireland, for the walls

of the nunnery loomed up before my mental vision like a living

tomb. I was filled with only one thought, one desire, and that

was to return to my home and—die. Mr. Matthias appealed

in my behalf to the captain, who kindly promised to take me

back to Boston, as he expected to sail for America on the 11th

of August. However, in a few days Capt. Higginson received

orders to sail into the Mediterranean Sea, thus dashing my new

found hope to earth. I told Mr. Matthias I would make known

the circumstances of my abject condition to Bishop Goss, the

Catholic prelate of Liverpool. Accordingly Mr. Matthias fur-

nished me with a carriage and I proceeded to the palatial resi-

dence of Bishop Goss, where I was informed by the gate-keeper

that the worthy Bishop was spending the summer months in

the Isle of Man, the fashionable resort of the elite, and that

Rev. Dr. Porter, president of the Jesuit College, would supply

the bishop's place during his absence. To Dr. Porter I then

proceeded, and was favored with an interview. I made known

to him my errand ; he refused to give me money for my passage

either to Ireland or America, but entreated me to remain in

Liverpool and reside in one of his Convents. To this I partly

consented as it seemed the only remedy left. " Beggars can-

not be choosers," and some shelter would be afforded me in

this way^ at least.

I returned to the ship and told the chief steward the decision

I had almost made. Mr. Matthias was a good Presbyterian,

and rather than permit me to do what he considered such a

wicked thing as condemn myself again to a convent prison, of'

132 ALONE IN A FOREIGN LAND.

fered to pay my passage back to my friends if I would accept

a steerage berth. He said, if he could afford it, he would gladly

send me back in the cabin. From my inmost heart I thanked

that good Christian man, and gladly accepted the steerage ticket

which he secured for me in the steamship Siberia, of the Cu-

nard line, and he also replenished my wardrobe, which, as the

reader already knows, was sadly deficient. William Matthias

was actuated by a purely humane and charitable motive ; he

said that he never in his life had witnessed such suffering as

mine in that voyage from New York to- Liverpool, and his

tender heart pitied me. He will meet his reward from Him

who has promised to reward for even a "cup of cold water"

given in His name.

On the 12th of August, 1868, I embarked in the Siberia and

turned my face toward home. While the ship wras in Queens-

town harbor I noticed a priest enter the steerage passage. I

knew him to be a priest by his hypocritical and down-looking

countenance. No matter under what garments priests appear

they have a look peculiar to themselves. He also recognized

me as a nun, because convent life imprints upon the human

face a peculiar expression which years are required to eradicate.

He was in a state of constant intoxication, and one day he in-

troduced himself to me as Rev. Father Owens, and in the course

of conversation confessed that he had been suspended in Ire-

land, " because he had a great weakness for whisky and women."

He showed me a letter from his Bishop, recommending him to

a Bishop in America, where his propensities were not known,

and he expected to get a church there.

MY RETURN. 133

We were out three days from Queenstown when a fearful

storm arose and lasted nearly three days. Who can describe

the terror of a storm at sea ?—the wild panic, the fearful de-

spair of hundreds of human souls expecting every moment to

be launched into eternity ? On the 16th of August, near mid-

night, we were precipitated from our berths into floods of water,

the hatchways were open and the water poured into the steer-

age, drenching us through ; and then the piercing shrieks, the

wild confusion, the German clatter, the Irish wail, the cries of

children, the shouting of the sailors, the roar of the angry wa-

ters, made up a scene which no human pen could adequately

paint ; and yet I never felt so calm. I had no fear of death. I

made one fervent act of contrition to God and calmly prayed

for death. But this was not to be. The storm abated, and

the steerage, with its hundreds of human souls, presented a

most wretched, miserable, and filthy aspect. I could not par-

take of the coarse fare furnished there, and I know not what

would have become of me if I had been compelled to remain in

that steerage eight days more. Again God raised up a friend

for me in Rev. Mr. Green, a missionary, who was returning

with his wife and four little children from a nine years' sojourn

in Turkey to his home in Portland, Maine. This gentleman

was attracted toward me, and thus addressed me :" Madam,

your refined and delicate appearance indicate that you are not

accustomed to the hardships of the steerage. I feel that some

reverse of circumstances has placed you there. I will speak to

the captain, and if he will permit, I will take you into the cabin

in order that you may assist my wife, who is now suffering from

134 MY RETURN.

sea-sickness, in the care of her little ones." And thus I passed

the remainder of the voyage in the first cabin.

The Siberia sailed into Boston. Mr. Reade, the quarter-

master, who had been very kind to me, assisted me ashore,

placed me in a carriage and I drove to my sister's house, after an

absence of six weeks. I answered to my sister's inquiries by

pouring into her ears the harrowing details of all my wrongs,

trials, and hardships, which I thought she would keep secret in

her own heart, and, with a true woman's sympathy, shield me

from renewed sufferings. But I had not yet drained to the

dregs the bitter chalice ; only through the crucible of renewed

suffering could I be thoroughly purified from the dross of Ro-

manism.

cKj^t*^ j <^?r,. ^t^gr^^

CHAPTER XXI.

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

It is painful for me to make the remark that Gertrude was

not a Christian. Her own words, " I hate Catholics and de-

test Protestants, I hate, abhor, detest the whole of God and

man !" will convey to my readers her sentiments, and the

bitterness of her heart against all created things, therefore she

was the last one to whom I should have confided my sorrows.

A few days after my arrival she left me at her house in Boston,

and went home, bearing the trail of the serpent into that para-

dise where there had been but peace heretofore, and my father

in his anger forbids my name to be mentioned in his house.

After this home visit, Gertrude went to Hudson City, and on

the 25th of August, 1868, confronted Father Walsh in his

own parlor, and wrung from him a confession of his attempted

crime. He expressed his deep repentance, told her he was

going to join the order of Dominicans, and had already made

arrangements to enter St. Rose's Monastery in Springfield,

Kentucky. Gertrude told Father Walsh I was in Boston,

although I never intended he should know anything about my

fate. She gave him one week to betake himself out of the

(135)

13G THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

country, and proceeding to Providence, R. L, there called on

Bishop McFarland, and laid the case before him. He told

her that Mother Xavier had written to him at the time of my

flight, and in that letter stated that I had given entire satisfac-

tion up to the time of my disappearance, but that a few days

before I left the convent, I had " manifested symptoms of in-

sanity." At the same time she requested Bishop McFarland

to make inquiries if I had gone to my home. Bishop McFar-

land took notes of my sister's charges, and sent them to Bishop

Bayley, of Newark, with an order to suspend Father Walsh

from his priesthood. Gertrude then returned to Boston, but I

was entirely ignorant of her movements. She went to the

office of Starkweather & Sheldon, criminal lawyers, at 33

School St., Boston, and engaged their services in a suit against

Father Walsh, having the writ made out in my name and with-

out my consent.

On September 7th, she went in search of the defendant,

and failing to find him in Hudson City, she went to Father

Corrigan, in Jersey City, who gave her the address of Father

Walsh at Mount Holly, Burlington, N. J., where he wTas stop-

ping a few days with Father McGahann, preparatory to going

Wost. Gertrude told Father Corrigan that she heard Father

Walsh was about to become a Monk, but she wished to see

him before he went away, as she owed him a debt which she

Wished to pay. Father Corrigan replied that every one re-

gretted the loss of Father Walsh, as he was such an eminent

priest in holiness ; in fact that was the cause of his retiring

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 137

into a Monastery, his nature being too "Angelic" to be tainted

by the breath of this " impure world."

Gertrude took the train to Burlington, and arrived at Mount

Holly on the evening of the 8th. She found Father Walsh,

and made arrangements to meet him on the Wednesday follow-

ing in Boston, telling him I was ill, and wished to see him.

Father Walsh, never suspecting her true motive, promised heri

ihat if nothing happened in the interim he would be in Boston

pn the day appointed. Owing to circumstances which he

could not control, he failed to arrive. She again set out in

quest of the delinquent, and succeeded in finding him at his

Sister's, Mrs. Sullivan, South lGth Street, Philadelphia. She

appointed a meeting on board the Bristol boat for Boston, at

five p. m., on Friday, the 18th. In the meantime, Father

Walsh went to Mount Holly to make it all right with Father

McGahann for the few daj& he was to be absent, not by any

means telling McGahann his destination.

Gertrude and Father Walsh arrived in Boston on the morn-

ing of Saturday, the 19th of September. She took him to the

Adams House, on Washington Street, where he registered his

name, and after shaking hands with him hastened to her law-

yers and told them Father Walsh was in Boston, and at the

Adams House. A writ, after Gertrude had taken oath to all

it contained, was placed in the hands of Deputy Sheriff Mer-

rill. She accompanied this deputy to the Adams House, and

pointed out the unsuspecting priest, who was immediately taken

in charge and conducted to the Boston Court House.

Gertrude applied in person to Father Babst, a particular

138 THE ARREST OF FATHER. WALSH.

friend of hers, in order to procure bail for Father Walsh. (This

Rev. John Babst was at that time President of the Boston Jesuit

College, but he has since been made Provincial of the Jesuits

in the United States and Canada, and at present resides in the

Jesuit College, Sixteenth Street, New York.) In the mean-

time I received the following letter from Father Walsh

:

" Sheriff's Office, Court House.

My Dear, Dear, Sister.—Oh come to your poor helpless

friend ! I am now under arrest and w^ould not be allowed to

see«you. Will you come to me, for God's sake ? They re-

quire bail for my appearance, but how is your cruelly perse-

cuted one to find bail in a strange city to which you alone have

attracted me. Oh sister ! remember my love and kindness

toward you always, and come and let your poor penitent father

free. All, Gertrude, you have acted the traitor too well

!

Come and see me dear, dear sister. I cannot realize my dread-

ful position, and know not what I write. Oh, my God ! give

me yet a little patience. I have sinned against thee, dear

Lord ! Thy will be done. Come and see me in this office

immediately dear sister, otherwise I shall be put into the "den

of'thieves." Come, dear sister, and tell me what you want me

to do. This is now the " prayer . of the wreary one." MayGod and his holy Mother put it into your heart to act again

the part of Sister de Chantal.

I am your unfortunate friend, -

W. M. Walsh."

When I received this letter I was petrified with grief and

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 139

astonishment. I could not weep although my heart was weep-

ing blood. In calm despair I accompanied the bearer of the

letter to the Court House, and deeply veiled I entered the

sheriff's office, where I beheld Father Walsh very much de-

pressed and cast down. Gentle reader, pity me in that trying

scene, when, for the first time in my life, I entered a sheriff's

office and found it full of men who all stared at me as I entered.

What a position for a shrinking, sensitive woman to be placed

in ! and what an errand had brought me there ! Nothing

could have induced me thus to expose modesty than a con-

scientious duty to avert scandal from the Catholic religion, and

to prevent the imprisonment of an anointed priest, and a man

I once had loved, and whom I had forgiven.

Father Walsh was not impenitent ; he was going to make a

life-long atonement for his sins among the austere order of

Dominicans ; and although he had sinned knowingly, sinned

grievously, yet he implored pardon from his Heavenly Father

Who is " ever ready to forgive all who trust in Him, and re-

nounce their evil ways." I told Father Walsh I had nothing

to do with his arrest, and I would never give my consent to

his imprisonment. The sheriff said I had nothing at all to do

with it, as it was my sister who took oath against him.

Gertrude, whose plans were substantially thwarted by

Father Walsh's writing to me, and my consequent appearance

in the prisoner's favor, soon after indignantly walked into the

sheriff's office, and in sharp tones, before all present, ordered

me out of the office in the following words :" Shame on you,

bold woman ! You are not your mother's daughter to concil-

140 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

iate with that poltroon. Do you think a true woman would

let such an act go unpunished ?" I replied to her calmly, " Atrue woman would shrink from publicity in such a case. He

has injured himself the most, and conscience will be to him a

more salutary punishment than a disgraceful imprisonment.

Let him retire into a Monastery to do penance and implore

forgiveness of God ! And now Gertrude, I am not a minor,

and I am the injured party. I'll forgive him." She replied

with great vindictiveness, " I will not forgive him ! he must go

to jail ; that is the St. Rose's Convent I have in view for him,

and where I trust he will do penance for the next fifteen years.

Edith, come away from here."

I left the sheriff's office and proceeded with her through the

court yard to the office of Starkweather & Sheldon. These

gentlemen were very courteous and sympathized with me, but

as the case could not be settled that day, they committed

Father Walsh to the Suffolk jail. The next day, which was

Sunday, Rev. Father Babst and Rev. Father Supple of Charles-.

town, visited him in the jail, and in the afternoon they settled

the case by paying the sum of $300 into the hands of the

lawyers. I did not know Father Walsh was released until

Monday morning, and Gertrude was so enraged with me be-

cause I had broken up the suit, that she uttered the bitter re-

mark :" I'll have revenge if I wade through hell to get it

!

and I'll go to my father, secure his power of attorney, and

have Walsh re-arrested in the criminal court of New Jersey,

and there you will have no power to. interfere." I was not

aware at that time that my parents were entirely ignorant of

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 141

Gertrude's proceedings and knew nothing of the arrest of

Father Walsh. My father would never have consented to it

if he had known her intentions. Fearing she would carry out

her threat, and actuated by the one motive to save the church

from scandal, with fifty dollars in hand, I went in pursuit of

Father Walsh, to tell him to leave at once the State of New

Jersey. I arrived at Father McGahann's, Mount Holly, Tues-

day, September 22d, at four p. m. Father McGahann was sur-

prised to see me, and at first failed to recognize me, as it was

the first time he had met me since I left the convent, and was

ignorant of my escape. Father McGahann had not seen

Father Walsh since the 18th, but was expecting him back

from the Dominicans in New York whither he had gone to

make arrangements for his departure west.

I saw Father McGahann knew nothing of the events that

had taken place, and I could not inform him. He asked me

to wait until the next day, and if Father Walsh did not come

then he would give him up. I went to the Davis Hotel,

Mount Holly, and remained all night suffering much anxiety

of mind lest Father Walsh had been re-arrested. The ques-

tion which troubled me was, why had he not arrived in Mount

Holly, as he had left Boston twenty-four hours in advance of

me? In the morning I went to Father McGahann's Church to

Mass, after which he invited me to breakfast with him. About

nine a. m., while we were conversing in the parlor, Father

Walsh made his appearance, dejected, downcast, and unshaven.

Father McGahann was very much surprised by the deplorable

aspect Father Walsh presented, and thus accosted him, a Well

142 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

William, wnat has happened to you ? here is Sister de Chantal

who has been waiting since yesterday to see you. What kept

you ?"

" Well, James, if you must know what happened to me, I

have been in jail."

" In jail, William ! Arrah, what brought you to jail, and

what jail wTere you in ?"

" To tell you the truth, James, I hardly know what jail my-

self ; all I can tell you is that I put up in the Boston jail Sat-

urday, breakfasted and dined there on Sunday, settled my ac-

count at the jail Sunday evening, and here I am now, James,

more dead than alive,—or is it dreaming I am ?"

"Faix, we are both dreaming I think," said Father

McGahann, falling back in his chair, in dismay.

" Will you tell me William, what you were doing in Boston ?

sure, it's with the Dominicans I thought you were ; what in the

wide, ivide world took you to Boston at all ?"

" Sister de Chantal's sister took me there."

" Is it the little thing that was here the other day ?"

" Yes, James, that little fly in the brown silk walking suit."

fa Arrah Billy ! what made you go with her ? Musha, may

the devil shoot her, but she is smart to hoist you off to Boston

jaill and may the devil hikers you for going with her—but we

are all fixed now in earnest ! Come William, tell me all about

it, for God's sake."

Whereupon Father Walsh tearfully confessed all to Father

McGahann, expressing the most sincere regret for all the suf-

fering he had occasioned me. I then explained to Father

THE ARREST OP FATHER WALSH. 143

"Walsh why I was there, requesting him to leave the State of

New Jersey without delay, because of Gertrude's threat.

Both the priests were alarmed, and Father McGahann hur-

ried Father Walsh away while I was to remain in Mount

Holly until Father McGahann returned. However, at the

depot they met Fathers Sheehan and Fitzsimmons, who were

posting down in hot haste with a report which had appeared

in the New York Tribune. They all returned together to the

house, and Father Walsh showed 'me the publication in the

newspaper. My readers will observe from the statement of

facts which I have given, the falsity of the following paragraph

:

From the New York Daily Tribune, of Tuesday, September

22d, 1868..

.

" Remarkable Suit in a Boston Court.—Boston, Sept.

2lst. A few days ago the Rev. Mr. Walsh, a Catholic clergy-

man, was arrested in a civil process on the charge of seduction

in August last of Miss Edith O'Gorman, otherwise Sister

Teresa de Chantal, who had been an inmate of the convent of

Notre Dame, Hudson City, New Jersey ; to which institution

Walsh was attached in the capacity of spiritual adviser to the

nuns. On leaving the convent Sister Teresa went to Philadel-

phia, whither she was followed by Walsh. About the 24th of

August, he sent her to Liverpool in a steamer, but the girl's

sister, Gertrude O'Brien, came to a knowledge of the facts, at

that time, and at once set about rescuing her sister from her

life of shame. She now lives in Boston where, the entire

family helping, Gertrude succeeded in getting her sister back

7

144 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

from Liverpool to Boston, and obtained from her a recital of

her wrongs. She wrote at once to Messrs. Geo. C. Stark-

weather & Sheldon, well known criminal lawyers, and told her

case. They informed her that she must get Walsh to Boston

in order to do anything with him. With true woman's art she

concocted a tale which brought him here, and he was at once

arrested in a civil process, in which the victim claims $5,000

damages, and lodged in jail. This morning he obtained money

enough to pay the damages, "and is now out of Massachusetts.

It is said that he has been suspended from his" priesthood by

his Bishop."

Dear readers, what my sensations were no language can de-

scribe as I read that base and lying document. I, who had en-

dured every kind of suffering, hardship, and privation, rather

than sacrifice honor and virtue, was by that carelessly printed

card paraded before the public as " fallen," especially in the

part which reads : "the girl's sister, Gertrude O'Brien, came to

a knowledge of the facts at that time, and at once set about

rescuing her sister from her life of shame." And then too,

consider this :" She now lives in Boston, where, the entire

family helping, Gertrude succeeded in getting her sister back

from Liverpool !" Oh, how false ! as my family knew nothing

of my misfortunes, and Gertrude did not dream of making an

effort toward my return from Liverpool. She did not even

know I had been there until I told her, after getting back

through the charity of William Matthias, on the 22d of Au-

gust. The false report stated that I was sent to Liverpool on

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 145

the * 24th of August," and further gives the public to under-

stand that I decoyed Father Walsh to Boston, and received

damages to the amount of $5,000. False ! false ! ! my sister

was the actor in the case, and three hundred dollars was the

exact sum paid by Father Walsh to Starkweather & Sheldon,

which sum he borrowed from Rev. Father Supple, of Charles-

town, Mass., and which was not even sufficient to pay the

" costs " of suit.

I could not help blaming Gertrude for this new suffer-

ing, which opened afresh the gaping wounds of my harrowed

heart. Father McGahann prepared a contradiction in my

name to that inaccurate and injurious card, which, though not

as explicit as I wished, nevertheless refuted many of the false

statements. It was as follows •

"The case of the Rev. Mr. Walsh, late of Hudson City.

To the Editor of the Tribune.

Sir : In a Boston dispatch headed., " Remarkable Suit in a

Boston Court," you say that the Rev. Mr. Walsh has been

suspended from priesthood on charge of seducing Miss Edith

O'Gorman, otherwise Sister Teresa de Chantal, while she was an

inmate of the convent of Notre Dame, Hudson City, N. J. I,

the alleged victim, Edith O'Gorman, formerly Sister de Chantal,

am prepared to swear that every charge contained in said arti-

cle is untrue from beginning to end, It is a foul calumny that

I have ever been seduced in my life by anybody. It is also

untrue that the Rev. Mr. Walsh was my spiritual adviser. It

is untrue that he ever followed me to Philadelphia except by,

146 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

as I then thought, my dying request. It is false that he ever

sent me to Liverpool except by my own earnest request. I left

the convent unknown to my superior, and all whom I esteem-

ed in this world. I went to Ireland of my own account. I

have no sister married, and hence "Gertrude O'Brien," men-

tioned in your article cannot be my sister. I have a sister

named Mary Gertrude O'Gorman, living at No. 48 Essex

Street, Boston, who has brought a great deal of misery upon

me. I have never written to Messrs. George C. Starkweather

& Sheldon, on any business whatever. Whoever has given

such scandal to my character must hold himself responsible

for his conduct. I have never enticed the Rev. Mr. Walsh to

Boston,, This awful charge might never have come to my

notice except through the goodness of a friend. No matter

how opposed I am to appear in public print, I consider it a

duty I owe to myself, to the holy community to which I be-

longed, and to the Rev, Mr. Walsh, who has been injured on

my account, to send you the above statement, and I beg that

this contradiction will be copied by all the papers that have

circulated the grievous scandal.

Edith O'Gorman,

Alias Sister Teresa de Chantal."

Rev. Father Sheehan took the above letter to the New York

Tribune, and it appeared on the morning of September 25th.

Father Walsh, in the presence of Fathers McGahann, Sheehan,

and Fitzsimmons, proclaimed me to bev|he purest minded

woman he had ever met ; he expressed the deepest sorrow for

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 147

all the suffering lie had occasioned me, and before all present

confessed he loved me then if possible, more than ever, and

imploring my pardon, we parted forever. The priests were

moved to tears in witnessing the separation of two human

hearts, which were it not for an accursed system, might have

been spared so much suffering and a life-long separation.

The 25th of September, 18G8, was the last time I saw

Father Walsh, and I was left alone and unprotected in a cruel

world to bear the whole weight of its calumny and oppro-

brium. September 26th, Father McGahann sent me to Balti-

more, giving me the name of Agnes Barry, and telling me that

under an assumed name and in a strange city, I could get a

school to teach from some of the priests. September 28th I

stopped at Barnum's Hotel, Baltimore, and the next day I was

directed by the Jesuits to a boarding house at 132 North Cal-

vert Street, where as a transient boarder I paid two dollars

per day. I went to several priests seeking a situation as

teacher, but every vacancy was supplied. My money nearly

all gone, I wrote to Father McGahann, and received the fol-

lowing letter in reply :

Mount Holly, N. J., September 31st, 1868.

Dear Sister :—I received your letter to-day and really it

pained me very much, God ! I fear you are falling away

from the only true Catholic faith. Oh, dear girl ! pray to God

to drive such temptations from your mind. I would suggest

that you enter upon some devotion, say the " thirty days

prayer "—that God through the intercession of our Blessed

148 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

Lady might free you from such temptations. Should you com-

mence this prayer let me know the time and I will pray for

you in my masses. About looking out for a school I think

you have been too hasty. You should remain quiet for the

present, and do everything after quiet consideration. You can

remain where }7ou are for a week or two, till you find some

suitable situation, and during that time I would suggest that

you pray a great deal to our Divine Lord and His immaculate

Mother, and I am sure God will assist you. Do not give your-

self any further uneasiness about poor Father Walsh, as, thank

God, he is on Ins way to where he cannot possibly be found

out ; and I hope God will give him grace to repent of the path

he has taken in causing you so much suffering, and in bring-

ing scandal upon the Church of God. I have not heard much

about the matter since. Father Sheehan has been with me

assisting me at the Triduum, and has told me that all the papers

copied the contradiction, and commented largely on the affair.

He requested that you make an affidavit in confirmation of

the statements in the contradiction. You will then please

write out the contradiction and go before some magistrate and

swear to the truth of what you have written, and send it to

me. Do not forget this but do it without delay. I will send

you letters of recommendation next week, which will be time

enough for you. You are at present unfit for anything. Whenyou become more tranquil it will be time enough to look out

for a situation ; the quieter and more retired you keep your-

self for the present, the better. I hope you will consider the

necessity of again retiring into the convent. Father Renahan

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 149

has taken to his bed and is inconsolable. Father Hogan is

frantic ; has written to me twice the same day. Oh, dear

child ! it is a blow which has withered many hearts. Write

often to me and I will send you every news. Your only sal-

vation is in prayer, and may God give you the grace of prayer

!

Yours very truly in Jesus Christ,

J. J. McGahann."

After receiving the above letter in compliance with the

Jesuits' advice, I put the following advertisement in the Balti-

more Sun:

" An accomplished young lady wishes a situation as Gov-

eness or Lady's Companion. Address Agnes Barry, 132

North Calvert Street."

The same day about two p. m. an elegant carriage drove up

to the door, and a magnificently dressed lady enquired for

Agnes Barry. This lady said she had seen my advertisement,

and as she needed a companion or waiting-maid she had an-

swered it. I told her I expected letters of recommendation

from a Roman Catholic priest in a few days. She replied

very graciously, " Your face is all the recommendation I need,"

at the same time requesting me to accompany her then in her

carriage, and gathering together my scanty wardrobe I complied,

thanking God in my inmost soul that I had succeeded in get-

ting a situation.

We alighted at an elegant mansion in an aristocratic look-

ing neighborhood. The lady, who seemed extremely affable,

conducted me into a luxurious chamber which she told me was

150 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

to be mine. She requested me to take some rest as she would

not require my services that day, and then retired with the

excuse that several visitors were awaiting her in the drawing

room. I knelt down to thank God for the blessing of a com-

fortable home. No suspicion of wrong crossing my mind

until about one hour after the lady had left me, I was aston-

ished to see an elderly looking man enter my chamber. At

first I thought he was the lady's husband who had entered the

room without knowledge of my presence there. However, I

was doubly surprised when he came and sat down on the sofa

where I sat reading a book, and gliding his arm around my

waist, made use of language which sent the blood tingling

through my veins with indignation. I sprang from the sofa

and demanded to know what he meant and why was I there

to be thus insulted ? he replied, " So then you are ignorant of

the character of this house ?" I told him I only knew that I

had been engaged by a lady there as companion ; but a sus-

picion that I had been ensnared to a maison d'lnfamie crossed

my mind, and paralyzed my senses with unspeakable horror.

I went to the door to find it locked, as unperceived by me he

had sprung a secret spring when he entered. " O God ! have

mercy upon me and save me !" I ejaculated, and kneeling down

in a voice of heartrending supplication, I addressed the fol-

lowing to the Blessed Virgin :" Remember, O most holy Vir-

gin, that no one ever had recourse to thee without finding re-

lief. Oh, come to my assistance most immaculate Virgin, and

save your child from defilement ! Remember, O most holy

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 151

mother, that I am the consecrated spouse of thy divine Son

!

O holy mother save me !"

While I repeated this prayer that man stood aloof from me,

and when I finished he said, " are you a Catholic and a con-

secrated Virgin ?" I looked at him, and with lightning-like

rapidity the thought flashed through my mind that he was a

Roman Catholic priest. I arose from my knees and confront-

ing him, I replied, " I am a Catholic, and you, sir, are a Roman

Catholic priest. I am a consecrated virgin, and on account of

priestly depravity I ran from the convent, and am out on the

wicked world without a friend or home ; and oh, sir ! if you

possess one spark of humanity, if there is any truth or virtue

in the Catholic Church, you a priest of that faith will open

those doors and let me depart unsullied ?" He looked at me

in surprise and his quivering lips denoted he was deeply moved

while he exclaimed, " My God, have I come to this ? child put

on your bonnet, and depart as you came." He then accompa-

nied me to the hall door, and held it open while I passed out,

at the same time saying, " pray for priests."

I found myself in a strange part of the city, and with the

greatest difficulty I again made my way back to North Calvert

Street. I could scarcely realize the fate I had so miraculously

escaped through the treachery of that degraded woman. Was

it possible that one of my own sex could fall so low ? Woman

when good and pure is the most beautiful of God's creatures,

but there is nothing in hell or earth so vile as a degraded

woman. woman, woman, why destroy the beautiful handi-

work of thy Creator by making yourself a fiend incarnate.

152 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

I was so inexperienced in the ways of the world that I never

suspected the existence of such degradation. I resolved never

a^ain to advertise for a situation.

I had ten dollars left and with that I left Baltimore, and as

I had no one else to go to, I went to Father McGahann, whom

I found in great trouble on account of another malignant and

lying report which had appeared in the New York Tribune.

I learned afterward that Gertrude had given her lawyers

fifty dollars to secure their affidavits in confirmation of the

statements which no Boston paper would give publicity to,

and the New York Tribune was the only paper which pub-

lished the false report. If the statements had been only truth-

fully made, I would not have felt such poignant grief, but the

thought that a sister, whose duty it was to shield and protect

me, should open afresh the gaping wounds of my bleeding

heart, was overwhelming in itself. Her aim in making the

matter public was chiefly to show up the secret crimes of

priests, but, for her sister's sake at least, why did she not see

that the statements published were truthful ?

No matter what way I turned I seemed to be baset by new

sorrows, and each trial seemed greater than the preceding

one. Thus, pressed down upon all sides I was overwhelmed

in an accumulation of sorrows. John Russell Young was

then acting editor of the New York Tribune ; he did not im-

mediately publish the letter which was again " loosely made "

by the Boston correspondent, and so received a sharp letter

from Gertrude, asking an explanation why the report had not

appeared. Let my readers judge by reading this report, how

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 153

fearfully I was again wronged, and what injustice and calumny-

was heaped upon my unprotected head.

\_From the Tribune of October Qth, 1868.]

BOSTON.

The case of Edith 0'Gorman—Documentary proofs of

the affair—Narrative of the events.

A card was recently published in our columns denying th

truth of the story sent us by our Boston correspondent. This

has been generally copied, and the Tribune denounced for pub-

lishing false news. We now print a letter from our Boston cor-

respondent, together with the documentary evidence upon

which his narrative was based, and with this statement dismiss

the subject.

Boston, Sept. 28th, 1868.

In the Tribune of the 22d September, there appeared a par-

agraph which narrated briefly and imperfectly the seduction by

Rev. William M. Walsh, a Catholic priest at Hudson City, of

a Sister of Notre Dame, by the name of Edith 0'Gorman, or

as she was called in* the convent, Sister Teresa de Chantal.

On the 25th September, a card appeared in the Tribune, signed

by Miss O'Gorman, which denied the seduction point blank,

and evaded the other statements in the paragraph, some of

which were hurriedly and loosely made. After the publica-

tion of that card, your co-respondent at once went to work in

gathering proofs to substantiate his statements, and he has

obtained among other documents, the following : First, a cer-

tified copy of the sheriff's writ, taken out by Miss Edith

154 TIIE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

O'Gorman herself, on the 15th inst., in which the property of

the Kev. Win. M. Walsh is attached for $5,000 damages.

To this writ Miss O'Gorman, (who now apparently denies that

she was ever seduced by Mr. Walsh,) asserted as follows

:

" First Count—And plaintiff says defendant made an as-

sault upon her, and by force debauched and carnally knew her,

whereby the plaintiff was made sick for a long time, to wit

:

for the space of one year, and her life was endangered, and

she was subjected to great pain and anguish of body and

mind.

Second Count—And plaintiff further says, defendant was

her spiritual adviser and director, and defendant contrary to

his duty as such adviser and director, endeavored to violate

and have carnal intercourse with the plaintiff, and administered

certain drugs and potions to the plaintiff, which she is unable

more particularly to describe, and by means of such drugs and

potions so enfeebled and overmastered the plaintiff, that he

was enabled to and did thereupon debauch and carnally know

the plaintiff; and in consequence thereof, plaintiff was made

grievously sick for a long time, to wit : for one year, and her

life was endangered and she was subjected to great physical

and mental pain and agony.

Third Count—And plaintiff says defendant made an assault

upon her and struck her, and ill-treated her, and kept her im-

prisoned for the space of one year, in consequence of which

plaintiff was made grievously sick for a long time, to wit : for

one year.

' On the 19 th inst., the Rev. Mr. Walsh was arrested in Bos-

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 155

ton by a deputy sheriff, and, being unable to procure bail, was

committed to jail. The 19th was Saturday, and on Sunday p. m.

Mr. Walsh settled the ' case, and secured the discharge of the

suit by paying cash into the hands of Miss Edith O'Gorman's

attorney, the well-known Messrs. George C. Starkweather &

II. N. Sheldon. Your correspondent has obtained a sworn

affidavit, made by Messrs..Stark weather & Sheldon, to the effect

that Mr. Walsh confessed to them, that he had illicit inter-

course with Edith O' Gorman, otherwise Sister Teresa de

Chantal ; and your correspondent also has the sworn affidavit

of Miss Mary Gertrude Byron O'Gorman, the sister of Edith,

and through whose truly wonderful perseverance and ingenuity,

mainly inspired simply by a desire to bring a villain to justice,

and to lighten, if possible, her sister's and her family's tar-

nished honor, the iniquity of this case has been brought to

light. That Mr. Walsh was suspended from his priesthood on

account of performing the deeds mentioned in the Sheriff's writ.

Miss Gertrude was told so by Mr. Walsh himself, and that he

was suspended by Bishop Bayley of New Jersey. In Mie

card published in the Tribune, signed by Edith O' Gorman* it

is stated that Mr. Walsh was not suspended.

It appears singular that a woman who one day sues a man

for seduction, and obtains damages, should on another deny

that she was ever outraged. The explanation is this. By

some means or other, Mr. Walsh has obtained possession of her

again—in fact, it is believed that they left Boston together aftef

the settlement of the case, and went to N'ow York. The

sight of the man excited feelings of affection, which the weak-

|56 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH,

'med intellect of the girl could not resist, and she, it is believed,

is once more in his toils—he a priest, and forbidden by his

Church to know the other sex, and sjie a professed bride of

the Church, vowed to celibacy. The card in the Tribune of

the 25th, was evidently the work of Mr. Walsh's brain, and

not of the girl's ; she is not capable of a document so Machia-

velain in character.

The facts in regard to the seduction by the Rev, William

M. Walsh of Miss Edith O' Gorman, while she was a sister of

Notre Dame, in a house of the order, are succinctly these : The

Revo Mr. Walsh came to the convent six months before the

outrage took place, which was on the 19 th of January last.

He was a curate in the convent, and the sisters did not confess

to him, and therefore he was not, in one sense, their spiritual

adviser. On the night of the 19th of last January, he induced

Miss O'Gorman to go into the chapel of the convent with him.

There he gave her something to drink, which produced stupe-

faction. When she awoke she discovered that she had been

violated. Her outraged feelings caused her to become de-

ranged, and in hopes of hastening her recovery, she was sent

by the mother to a convent at Newark, N. J„ On the 31st of

January she ran away in her religious dress, and went to the

Continental hotel in Philadelphia. She stayed there two

weeks, and the Rev. Mr. Walsh found her boarding under the

assumed name of Edith Crofton. He removed her to the

house of Mrs. Willt, on Coates Street, and kept her there

nearly four months. During that time, he visited her at Mrs.

Willt's at various times, and she met him at New York at

various times. On the 10th of last June she was at the

THE ARIIEST OP FATHER WALSH. 157

Pacific Hotel, on Greenwich street, New York, with Mr.

Walsh, and they were seen by parties in a position they

should not have been in. This is susceptible of direct proof

from eye-witnesses. In the middle of July—probably on the

15th—she sailed for England in the Steamer Propontis, as

she herself has said, sent there by Mr. Walsh. Out of his

sight she got over her infatuation for him, (as she did lately in

Boston, when she brought the suit against him) and told the

steward of the vessel her tale. He took pity on her condition

—in a foreign country, without a friend—and paid her passage

back in the Steamer Siberia. She arrived in Boston on the

22d of August, her relatives—father, mother, and sister

—

knowing nothing of her seduction and adventures. Between

the 22d and 24th of August, she confessed her shame to her

sister, and besought her to obtain reparation. The parents of

the sister reside in Rhode Island, and are highly respectable

people. Bishop McFarland has charge of that diocese, and to

him Gertrude O'Gorman appealed for justice. He wrote to

Bishop Bayley of New Jersey about the case, and it is believed

caused the suspension of the Rev. Mr. "Walsh. Walsh then

went to reside with some friends at Mount Holly, Burlington,

N. J., and occasionally with his sister in Philadelphia. Ger-

trude found him at Mount Holly, when she induced him to ac-

company her to Boston, to see Edith, it being necessary to

get him. into Massachusetts in order to punish him by law.

He came on and was mulcted, as has already been narrated.

Such are the sworn facts of this remarkable affair, and there

is documentary evidence to support every allegation. In so

158 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

base a recital as this, justice has not been clone by any means

to the foul wrong committed by the priest, or the heroism of

the victim's sister, Gertrude. Miss Edith 0'Gorman is about

2G years old, and quite handsome. Mr. Walsh is about 30,

and looks like a very gentlemanly priest. It is said that there

is a possibility that the Rev. Mr. Walsh will be allowed by his

Superiors to marry Miss O' Gorman, and thus at least partly

redeem her honor.

The following affidavits substantiate the above narrative:

We, Geo. C. Starkweather & H. N. Sheldon, both of Bos-

ton, County of Suffolk, and Commonwealth of Massachusetts,

on oath say that the Rev. William M. Walsh, was arrested on

a writ issued by us for the seduction of Miss Edith 0'Gorman.

That he confessed to us his crime, and that he settled the suit

by a cash payment.

Geo. C. Starkweather,

H. N. Sheldon.

Suffolk, ss., September 28, 1868.

Subscribed and sworn to severally by the said George C.

Starkweather & H. N. Sheldon, before me,

Wm. A. Herrick, Justice of the Peace.

Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Suffolk, ss.

I, Mary Gertrude Byron O'Gorman, having been duly sworn

depose and say that I was present when my sister Edith

O'Gorman authorized Messrs. Starkweather & Sheldon to

bring her suit against the Reverend William M. Wal&h. I

furthermore state that I have reliable information that said

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 159

"Walsh was suspended from his priesthood on account of his

acts charged in the writ.

Mary Gertrude Byron O'Gorman.

Suffolk, ss., September 28, 18G8.

> Subscribed and sworn to by the said Mary Gertrude Byron

O'Gorman, before me,

Wm. A. Herrick, Justice of the Peace.

Now, Christian readers, let me lay bare the falsity of thia

publication, from which I have suffered so much. The state-

ment " in the Tribune of September 2 2d, there appeared a

paragraph which narrated briefly and imperfectly the seduc-

tion by Rev. William M. "Walsh, a Catholic priest of Hudson

City, a Sister of Notre Dame, by the name of Edith O'Gor-

man, or as she was called in the convent, Sister Teresa cle

Chantal. On the 25th of September, a card appeared in the

Tribune signed by Miss O'Gorman, which denied the seduction

point-blank"—It is entirely false in that that I never belonged

to the order of Notre Dame nuns, which is an order entirely

distinct from Sisters of Charity ; and as to denying the seduc-

tion " point-blank," I again reiterate that I never was seduced

in my life. The word seduction implies the consent of both

parties, and death would have been preferable to me than to

such consent , neither was the outrage ever accomplished.

It, dear readers, is a most painful task to speak of such a

subject, nevertheless justice and truth require it. Again the

correspondent says that he " has obtained a certified copy of

the sheriff's writ taken out by Miss Edith O'Gorman herself

160 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

on the 15th inst., in which the property of the ReVc W. M.

Walsh is attached for five thousand dollars." This is another

base calumny. The Boston correspondent never saw a writ

" taken out by Miss Edith 0'Gorman herself," for no such writ

was ever taken out ; he might have seen a writ taken out by

Gertrude O' Gorman, but on the 15th of August I knew noth-

ing of the existence of such a writ, for I was then only a few

days out from Liverpool in the Siberia.

This writ from beginning to end is full^ of false charges

against Father Walsh and myself. The third count reads,

"And plaintiff says defendant made an assault upon her and

struck her, and ill treated her, and kept her imprisoned for

the space of one year, in consequence of which, plaintiff

was made grievously sick for a long time, to wit, for one year."

How could Father Walsh imprison me for one year when it

was scarcely nine months since I had run away from the con-

vent ? and it is a direct falsehood that Father Walsh ever

struck or imprisoned me ; on the contrary his treatment was

most tender, kind, and respectful.

The Boston correspondent makes it appear that I had re-

ceived " five thousand dollars damages," which falsehood I

have already explained to the reader, not if they could have

procured me $50,000 damages would I have carried on the

suit. I do not know as Father Walsh was ever suspended by

Bishop Bayley as alleged by Gertrude. I know that Bishop

Walsh, whom I met on the Steamer City of Baltimore, after

he arrived in Ireland, wrote to Bishop Bayley to suspend

Father Walsh, but Bishop Bayley did not.

THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH. 161

The correspondent further says, u l It appears singular that a

woman who one day sues a man, should the next day deny it.'

The explanation is this. By some means Mr. Walsh has ob-

tained possession of her again, in fact it is believed that they

left Boston together. The sight of the man excited feelings

of affection which the weakened intellect of the girl could not

resist, and she is once more in his toils."

What injustice! Never in my life have I brought suit

against any one, and my readers already know that I did not

leave Boston with Father Walsh ; neither did I know when he

left there as I did not see him until Wednesday the 22d, when

he arrived at Mount Holly. And if my " weakened intellect

"

was unable to resist him, where was the necessity for running

away from the convent, or going to Ireland and exposing my-

self to so many hardships and privations.

The correspondent finally winds up with an outline of the

facts, which although they contain many falsehoods, yet strange-

ly confound the "plaintiff's count" contained in the sheriff's

writ. He says, " Father Walsh found her boarding at the

Continental Hotel, and took her to Mrs. Willt's—and kept her

there four months." Whereas I was out of the convent four

months before Father Walsh found me, and then only through

the telegram sent by Mrs. Willt that I was dying. Neither

did I see Father Walsh on the 10th of June in the Pacific

Hotel, as it was Bessie Murry who met me at the depot in

Jersey City at five p. m., and conducted me there. Dear

readers, note the inconsistency of the two different cards placed

before the public by the Boston correspondent in the New York

1G2 THE ARREST OF FATHER WALSH.

Tribune. Compare the card of Sept 22d, with that of Octo'

ber 6th, both false, yet both contradicting each other, while I,

a defenceless woman, was forced to bear the whole weight of

the calumny. It is strange that I could not always realize

that there was a just God who even then sustained me in His

everlasting arms, and Who one day directed that I would tri-

umph over all my enemies, and my exaltation exceed the

depths of humiliation, through which for a time He permitted

me to wade.

tJSLSLSL

CHAPTER XXII.

ABDUCTION TO THE CONVENT OF GOOD SHEPHERDS.

Father McGahann advised me to go to New York, and

write from there to him, directing my letter to St. Peter's

Church, Grand Street, Jersey City, whither he decided to go,

because he could not endure the mortification of remaining any

longer in Mount Holly, and he would then see what could be

done for me. Accordingly I went to New York, and not hav-

ing much money, I engaged a room at the Stevens House,

which was conducted on tke European plan. Being known

there I was not required to pay for my room in advance. I

wrote to Father McGahann, but received no answer. I wrote

again. Still no reply. I could not understand why he should

thus abandon me without money or friends.

|

I had been nearly one week at the Stevens House, and had

not money enough left to pay for another meal in the restau-

rant, and as a last resort I sent a telegram to Gertrude, re-

questing her to send me some money, as I was starving. I

did not think she would act so unsisterly as to refuse the ap-

peal of a broken-hearted, destitute sister. Instead of money I

received a most unfeeling letter, asking how I dared apply to

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164 ABDUCTION.

her for money, and why did I not " go to my Bishops and Arch-

bishops of Babylon ?"

After I received this unkind letter from Gertrude, all hope

sank within me. I had not tasted food for two days, and was

suffering the pangs of hunger. I lost all hope or faith in God

;

I cried out in the despair of my heart, " There is no God, there

is no justice, no eternity !" I resolved to commit self-destruc-

tion, and made preparations to that effect by writing letters to

Father McGahann and Gertrude, which I sealed and directed

and put in my pocket, with another letter bearing the super-

scription, "To be opened when I am dead." I borrowed

twenty-five cents from the clerk of the hotel, crossed the ferry

into Jersey City, went into a drug store and called for arsenic,

which they refused to give me. I tried another pharmacy, and

succeeded in getting an ounce of laudanum, and then, in the

shade of evening, I walked to Hudson City and tried to get

into the church, intending to be found dead in the Sanctuary.

The church was locked ; I then went into Father Venuta's

kitchen, very much to the surprise of Bessie Murray, whom I

asked for the keys of the church. She refused to give them to

me, and then exclaiming, " It will do just as well here," I

drained the contents of the phial before her. She ran in dis-

may to inform Father Yenuta, who took his hat and cane and

left the house precipitately, for fear of being arrested if I were

found poisoned in his house. However, Fathers Sheehan and

Fitzsimmons, who were spending the evening, remained. But

a merciful God intervened and saved me from myself, although

ABDUCTION. 1G5

in that moment I had denied that He existed,—else I would

never have attempted such an act.

I had taken too much laudanum, consequently it did not re-

main in my stomach ; but I became very sick, and Father Ve-

nuta ordered that I should be removed to Jersey City, because

I was too well known there, and it would bring too much scan-

dal on the Church. I was sent to Mrs. Ford's, in South Sec-

ond Street, Jersey City. Mrs. Ford was a poor widow, and

in my sickness was very kind to me. Father Senez, the ex-

Jesuit, seeing that the sympathies of the people were with me,

and that they condemned the priests, sent Mr. Halliard of

South Fifth Street, his head man, with a carriage, and forcibly

conveyed me from a sick bed to the House of Good Shepherds

in Manhattanville, N. Y. Mrs. Rooney of Hudson City, who

happened to be visiting me when Halliard called, accompanied

me.

In the House of Good Shepherds I was placed on a straw

bed, and nourished the first day on black bread and coffee.

However, the next day I was recognized by a girl whom I had

reclaimed and sent there from the Hudson City jail. Oh, what

a humiliation for me to be placed on the same equality with

the most degraded vagrants ! When the superioress heard of

this she took me to her own room, and treated me with great

kindness until I recovered. She then entreated me to go to

Cincinnati and join her order there, which I refused, for I had

lost faith in Convents, and my soul seemed plunged into the

darkness of infidelity. Every hope in God was dissipated

;

166 BDUCTIOX.

that was the greatest trial of all ! I cannot conceive a greater

hell than to be without God !

Finally the superioress opened the doors and let me go free.

Mrs. Rooney had given me ten dollars. At that time I heard

of Rev. Dr. H. Mattison. I went to see him at his residence

in Jersey City ; he was the first Protestant minister with whom

I had ever conversed. He wished me to throw off the Catho-

lic religion and let the world know its hypocrisy. I told him

if there were no truth in the Catholic Church there was not any

truth, neither was there a God. " Unless the Lord build the

house they labor in vain who build it." I could not throw oiF

cue yoke of Romanism, with its train of errors and supersti-

tion, until the Lord severed the chains.

At the time I saw Dr. Mattison I did not believe there was

a God or eternity. I felt my soul plunging down, down into

the black sea of infidelity. The Catholic religion seemed all a

sham, a farce, and so were all religions. During three weeks

my soul suffered that fearful trial, that inexpressible desolation.

As day without the glorious sun would be an endless night, so

also the soul of man without a God is an endless hell. Al-

though I was sinking deep down into the gloom of infidelity, I

could not save myself,—and could man save me from that

frightful doom ? No, no, their efforts were fruitless. But there

was an Almighty arm stretched out, and it dragged me up, up,

from the darkness—not all at once, but gradually, step by step,

and I am saved at last, and rejoice in a new existence.

CHAPTER XXIII.

MY JOURNEY ON FOOT FROM BALTIMORE TO PHILADELPHIA.

Weighed down on every side, I knew not where to turn. I

could not go to friends, they had all forsaken me. I could not

go to strangers, they would suspect and repulse me. I could

not go to my home, its doors were unjustly closed against me.

I could not go to God, I had lost all faith and hope in Him.

" O ! ye who pass by the way come and see if ever sorrow was

like unto mine," was the wail of my bleeding heart.

In the midst of my depression and doubt, and as a last re-

sort, I thought of going to Archbishop Spalding, whom I had

always heard extolled as a model of Christian charity. I was

loth to think that in the Catholic Church all its priests and

bishops were false, therefore I applied in person to Archbishop

Spalding in Baltimore, with the hope that he would assist me,

by providing an honorable situation for me, which would enable

me to earn a living.

When I arrived at the eminent Archbishop's palatial resi-

dence I had only twenty-five cents in my purse, having spent

my last dollar in the journey thither. I did not think he would

refuse to befriend me. But the discovery was soon made. In

(167)8

1C8 JOURNEY FROM BALTIMORE TO PHILADELPHIA.

the most forlorn desolation I had sought the head of the Church

in America, only to find him a whited sepulchre—rottenness to

the core. He would do nothing for me unless I would agai .1

enter a Convent. To this proposition I replied that I would

rather perish of starvation than again immure myself in the

living tomb of a Convent. He entreated and threatened me,

but his nraniff was in vain. In some instances he used such

language in addressing me as any true woman would resent.

I turned from his parlors in disgust, while he in bitter sarcasm

sneered : " Ho, ho, you will come back again before night, and

be glad to go in the Convent, as you will soon discover that

you cannot live long in Baltimore with only twenty-five cents."

The most hardened man of the world would have treated

me with greater charity than did this head of the " only true,

infallible Church." Let Archbishop Spalding deny, if he can,

the fact that he permitted me to go out from his palace penni-

less and unprotected into the streets of a strange city. What

a fate for a defenseless woman ! May God help all the desti-

tute and friendless women who are cast thus on the mercy of a

selfish world

!

My heart became steeled against the Catholic Church. I

had put it to the test and it was found wanting. I would rather

die with hunger, or perish with cold, than again seek relief or

protection from its hardened priests.

With regard to seeking employment I was as ignorant as a

babe ; having been buried in a Convent I knew scarcely any-

thing of the ways of the world. Soul-sick and weary, I knew

not what to do, where to go, or how to find rest. With a hope-

JOURNEY FROM BALTIMORE TO PHILADELPHIA. 169

less heart and fainting frame I rang the door bell of an aristo-

cratic looking mansion, and in faltering accents inquired if they

wanted a servant. " No, we do not—be off with you," greeted

me from one of the class called menial ; while at the second

place where I mustered up courage enough to knock, a look of

suspicion, a cold shake of the head, and the door silently closed

upon me, were all the response my timid question received.

Meantime the night was advancing while I aimlessly wandered

through the city like a lost sheep, and at length, with an awful

sense of desolation, a total prostration of hope, I turned away

from the streets of Baltimore without a thought of what would

become of me.

To die of starvation and cold is a fate to which nature can-

not passively submit. I strayed from the city, and when the

shades of night fell upon the earth, I found myself on a soli-

tary road near a forest, which seemed to offer me an inviting

shelter, and I felt that I would die in the depths of a wood

rather than on the frequented streets of the city. To the for-

est, then, I turned, and on that chilly autumn night I found

repose on Nature's breast, laying my trembling, aching frame

down to rest on a bed of withered leaves, under the open can-

opy of heaven. With despairing eyes I gazed upon the count-

less myriads of stars, and reflected on the might and strength

of Him who hath formed them—and after a while a feeling of

hope and faith revived in my tortured heart, and I felt that

God would save me. " The Son of Man had not whereon to

lay His head," why then need I fear ? Was I not more like

Him? and the thought brought peace. When the soul feels

170 JOURNEY FROM BALTIMORE TO PHILADELPHIA.

isolated from creatures it often draws nearer to God; and

as I lay that night in the open air, a poor forsaken child of

earth, I experienced a dim flash of that Heavenly light which

was afterward to irradiate abundantly my entire being.

Morning dawned. The glorious sun filled earth and sky.

I arose from my hard couch and looked around me. Every-

where was sunshine. The trees were gorgeously beautiful in

their rich autumnal hues. I wished to remain in the forest and

never leave it. I envied the birds which sang so sweetly on

the tree tops. I would fain at that moment have become one

of them, that I might have found nourishment and shelter

there. But I was a human being, and as such could not re-

main there to die. Where should I turn ? To Philadelphia.

I could then go to Mrs. Willts ; she would not refuse to shelter

me and assist me to find employment. But it was a long, long

way to Philadelphia, and I had no money to pay my expenses

thither. What was I to do ? I would walk. I could only

fail and perish in the attempt ; nevertheless, I would try.

"With want and hunger staring me in the face I set out on

that long walk from Baltimore to Philadelphia. Reader, it is

too painful for me to recall and dwell upon all the incidents of

that journey ; they would fill a volume were I to recount mi-

nutely how, in many places, I was repulsed and looked upon

with suspicion and distrust when, driven by the pangs oi hun-

ger, I solicited a crust of bread with which to sustain my un-

happy life. Some would respond to my appeal with as much

humanity as they might manifest toward a starving dog ; while

others would more humanely and in greater abundance give

JOURNEY FROM BALTIMORE TO PHILADELPHIA. 171

me some " cold victuals," at the same time asking me a thou-

sand impertinent or quizzical questions. To the latter I made

little or no reply, because 1 could not enter into the recital of

all the trials which beset me, and which, to strangers, would

seem incredible and excite unpleasant suspicion. During

twelve long nights I sought repose in the open air, and when

the inclemency of the weather once drove me to a cottage to

seek shelter from the storm, the door was shut in my face with

the words, " we cannot harbor vagrants." God ! with what

poignant arrows my sensitive soul was pierced by such unkind-

ness and insult from my fellow beings, whom I thus found even

more unfeeling and selfish than the brute creation. When

tired, and struggling against hunger, I stretched forth my hand

for aid and succor, only to be rudely thrust back upon the bleak

desolation of a cold, cold world.

We have many Christian maxims beautiful in theory, but

how little are they practised ! Where are the kind shepherds

who seek the tired, wandering lamb, tenderly bind up the

bleeding wounds, and lovingly lead it into the fold ? The good

shepherds of the Catholic Church were feasting and carousing

in their palatial homes, while I was driven forth to starve.

" Come unto Me all ye that are heavy laden, and I will refresh

you, and ye weary of heart and I will give you rest." This

is the spirit of the Christian's Lord, and how beautiful were it

practised ! But the world says the contrary ; it says, " Come

unto me, and I will heap upon you opprobrium, reproach, and

recrimination, taunting, reviling, deriding, and persecuting you."

Is it not the voice of a selfish world ? Would I might deny

]72 JOURNEY FROM BALTIMORE TO PHILADELPHIA.

it ! but my heart 1ms harrowed through its depths ; my eyes

have watered its furrows with the lamentations that have gone

out from my soul in despair.

When, footsore, I arrived at the Susquehanna River, and

wearily wandered along its banks until I came to a town where

I succeeded in begging my way across. I often strayed from

the right course, and then would inquire of some humble look-

ing farmer the straight road to Philadelphia. Oh, how often I

sank by the roadside fainting from physical prostration ! how

often in very despair I was on the point of laying my weary

body down to die, only to rise again and rally my sinking

energy to reach the desired goal ! Each trial I suffered was in

itself well nigh sufficient to break some human heart. To be

cast out and suffer a living death from parents and relations

;

to have the heart's truest, purest love betrayed, and highest

confidence misplaced; to be abandoned by every friend on

earth ; to suffer the cruel injustice of base calumny and un-

merited persecution ; to be without shelter or food, a wander-

ing, starving, homeless mendicant, without even the consolation

of a true religion, seems indeed an incredible amount of sorrow

for one weak woman to endure ; and yet such was the accumu-

lation of sorrow heaped upon me, such the sea of trouble in

which I was deluged.

Ah, dear readers, how many of you would not think the bur-

den of one of those sorrows greater than you could bear

!

Truly the hand of God was laid heavily upon me, but it was

done in love. As there are some flowers whose fragrance can

only be exhaled by pressure, so there are souls whose purity

JOURNEY FROM BALTIMORE TO PHILADELPHIA. 173

and virtue cannot send out their good odor except by the weight

of suffering—the pressure of Infinite Love. My recollections

of life have indeed been fraught with weariness and pain, but

so that my heart might at last reach forth to God ; and it now

holds truth still more sacred for its scarcity. I would not

have it otherwise, and bless the Hand winch hath chastened

me. And as He hath permitted me to see the darkness and

the desolation, so doth He now permit me to see the peace and

the purity of holiness—that sweet calm which never comes

but to the God-born heart, and to the soul that has passed

from suffering to sanctity—from a living crucifixion, an unen-

tombed martyrdom, to the perfect peace " winch passeth under-

standing."

CHAPTER XXIV.

MY CONVERSION.

"Weary and way-worn I at last arrived in Philadelphia,

having been twelve days on the road. I went to Mrs. Willts,

1336 Coates Street, who kindly took me in until I was able to

seek employment, and which I found in less than two weeks in

a most Providential manner. Being afraid to advertise after

the experience I had in that line, I was advised to go to an in-

telligence office. Accordingly I started out to find one, and

was directed to 736 Arch Street. I entered, however, the

wrong building, and was surprised to find myself in a Phreno-

logical Gallery. An affable and venerable looking man, with

flowing, silvery beard and hair, approached me, wishing to

know if I desired to have a phrenological chart and description

of character. To this I replied in the negative, at the same

time apologizing for the intrusion. I told him my errand, and

was about to retire to the office indicated to me, when he re-

quested me to be seated, that he might have an opportunity to

study my head scientifically. I did so. He then proceeded to

enumerate in phrenological language the different qualities he

discovered, among them "unusual powers of oratory, elocu-

(174)

MY CONVERSION. 175

tion, penmanship, etc." After lie had finished his delineation

of my character, he said that his lady amanuensis was ill, and

he thought I was fully competent to take her place, and he

greatly desired that I should do so. Accordingly I engaged

with Professor W. B. Elliott in the capacity of amanuensis, at

a salary of six dollars a week. Here I remained during mysojourn in Philadelphia, a little over six months.

I boarded for a while at Mrs. Wartman's, Washington Square,

where I was subject to all the annoyances of a large and fash-

ionable boarding house. All the money I earned went to pay

my board. At table I was subjected to the rude stare of un-

principled men and women ; and in the parlor I found it con-

venient to sit aloof from the groups of gossiping women, who

were so anxious to find out all about every new comer. I was

often pained by such questions as these :" Have you no friends,

no acquaintances ? " " No ? " " Strange ! very strange !

"

And whispered insinuations would be thrown out, because I

had no friends call to see me ; and there were mysterious shakes

of the head, which plainly implied, " There must be something

wrong !

"

Unable to endure the unjust suspicions of unfeeling women,

I determined to confine myself to my little room, and afterward

never mingled with them except at table. I was indeed iso-

lated and without friends, but how could they know or under-

stand the depths of suffering which I endured, and which filled

my heart with distrust toward all creatures ? However, I was

at length fortunate enough to get board with a widow lady and

her invalid granddaughter. Mrs. Thomas was a Southern

17G MY CONVERSION.

lady, who had met with many reverses through the war ; was

very respectable, though humble ;poor but neat ; and with her

I was made to feel at home during the remainder of my stay

in Philadelphia.

My heart had not as yet been touched with a live coal from

the altar of God. My soul had not as yet emerged from

darkness into celestial light,—but the time was near at hand.

I felt it a necessity to attend church, and through force of habit

went to the Catholic Church ; but whenever I entered it I felt

a sense of terror take possession of my soul. I could not

kneel or bow down to those empty forms. One Sunday in

April, 1869, 1 witnessed Bishop Wood, in his golden vestments,

mitre and sceptre, administer the sacrament of Confirmation in

the Cathedral of Philadelphia. With a new light I looked

upon the falsity and hollowness of its forms and ceremonies

;

they appeared to me like the aimless play of children, or the

gorgeous pastime of fools. I was a child no longer, therefore

I could not be satisfied with this empty farce of religion, and

in a sweat of agony I turned away, with the resolve never

again to enter a Catholic church. I afterward visited Protes-

tant churches of all denominations. I attended Spiritual Cir-

cles and Quaker meetings, and finally began to think that all

religious systems were vain. Thus like a vessel cut loose from

its mooring, without helm or guide, I wandered awhile upon

the sea of doubt and uncertainty, and were it not for the infi-

nite mercy of Almighty God rank infidelity must have been

my ultimate refuge.

Who can describe the awful danger of such a position ? I

MY CONVERSION. 177

saw myself like a lonely mariner far off on the boundless ocean

at midnight, when the raging tempest conceals the heavens

from sight; when, crying for help and no encouraging voice

responds, no friendly aid is afforded, despair takes hold of the

soul. But Christ was on the ship, and soon His voice was

heard stilling my tempest-tossed soul with His potent words,

" Peace, be still," and the troubled waters became calm. Mymind had been so harassed with doubt, so cruelly agitated by

conflicting thoughts and ineffectual attempts to discover the

true faith, that I had formed the desperate purpose of embrac-

ing no particular form of Christianity until the hour of death

;

but God was watching over me. His hand was extended to

withdraw my feet from the brink of the precipice.

This soul-conflict lasted from April until August, 1869, when

Gertrude relented, and invited me to Boston. It was while

visiting a Catholic lady in that city that my conversion took

place. Not in a church, not by human eloquence, but in my

chamber, at the midnight hour, and by the mighty eloquence

of God alone, were the enemies of my soul put to flight, and

the power of darkness dispelled. The King came to take His

throne in my heart, filling it with triumph, joy, and gladness.

The deliverer came as my defense, my shield, and strength, and

salvation, in this world and the next ! God hath saved my

soul " from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from fall-

ing." But how can I describe the awful agony, the death

struggle which heralded the glorious Sun of the light of God,

as it ascended the awful East, and dispersed with its wonderful

effulgence the deep darkness of my soul ! The day of the

178 MY CONVERSION.

Lord dawned for me on the 29th of August, 1869 ; the awak-

ening was very bright and sudden. All day of the 29th my

spirit seemed unusually weighed down by gloom and aridity.

I could not sleep, the agony of desolation continued through

the night and forced me to arise and walk the floor of my

chamber. My soul murmured and rebelled against God. I

reproached Him for all that I had suffered ; I called Him un-

just and tyrannical. In my rage and agony I was about to

curse my great Creator, when, suddenly, I seemed to be com-

pletely overpowered by the majesty and greatness of God.

What 1 I, an insignificant atom of mortality, dare to reproach

my Creator ? to rebel against my God ? Fearful thought

!

and with a consciousness of my own nothingness I sank on my

knees and thus prayed :" O Father in Heaven, forgive me !

let Thy blessed light shine upon me ! deliver me from dark-

ness. Hear me my God, for Christ's sake ! " Like a flash of

burning fire those words shot from my heart, and instantan-

eously a dazzling light filled the room, and a clear voice rang

through my soul, distinctly saying, " Daughter of sorrow, arise

and shine. Go forth and teach the world the lesson you have

been taught!

"

I trembled with awe ; the old spirit left me, and the glorious

light of God burst with dazzling brightness upon my weary,

darkened spirit. A thousand years seemed to have rolled over

it in the darkest desolation, and now, now, what splendor, joy,

and heavenly bliss ! my shackles had fallen and celestial light

flooded my inmost soul with the healing stream of salvation.

MY CONVERSION. 179

Jesus pressed me to His bosom and sealed me forever His

own !

Not only did my soul emerge out of darkness, but my whole

body seemed changed. I felt like a new creature,—every de-

sire was renewed. I could scarcely refrain from crying out

with the joy that was in my heart—that heart which had so

long been acquainted only with sorrow and grief—that heart

which had been blindly sacrificed on the altar of self-immola-

tion to procure this heavenly peace which, by the power and

mercy of God, had at last filled it. Oh, the unspeakable rap-

ture, the glorious ecstasies of my new-born soul

!

Reader, it is not in the power of language to fully describe

the joy and peace of the soul which emerges from darkness

into light, and is united with Christ ; such happiness is far bet-

ter felt than told. All murmuring and rebellion fled from my

mind. I thanked God for every trial, for every persecution

and humiliation I had endured. I was resigned to the Divine

will, to suffer as long, and in whatever manner, my Master

pleased. With Jesus it is sweet to remain on the summit of

Calvary, where, removed from the world, the soul is alone with

a dying God ; it grasps the cross, and feels the warm atoning

blood of Christ purifying, cleansing, regenerating. Oh, the joy

of the soul united to Christ, clinging to the cross, washed in

the atoning blood ! I had passed from death to life. My

heart went out to God with a yearning desire to proclaim to

the world His mercy, power, and goodness to me. His heav-

enly strength filled my soul in rich streams, which shall go out

to heal and save others. Merciful God, at last I possess Thee

!

180 MY CONVERSION.

Kindest, dearest, tenderest friend ! every affection of my nature

is absorbed in Thee ! Hush, my soul, I cannot speak it, tongues

of angels cannot express the treasure of peace and content-

ment in Jesus.

Christian reader, how many there are who have not realized

that heaven begins when, silent from all the world, we again

and again repeat the sweet name of Jesus, Jesus ! And how

many there are who say that adored name, looking beyond

Him while looking for Him ! How many He is hidden from

by the delusive staging of superstitious forms and ceremonies !

Which of us, having once tasted how sweet the Lord is, can

think but with sorrow and anguish of the blind, cold, comfort-

less worship of which they partake who know not the treasure

of faith and salvation in Christ alone ?

Dear Catholic readers, blinded in delusion, weary with sin

and sorrow, come with me and taste how sweet Christ is.

Throw off your weight of forms and superstitions ; approach

the sacred fountain of Jesus' blood, where, wrapped in His

love, covered with His righteousness, your misguided souls and

weary hearts will be filled with heavenly love, joy, peace, and

contentment. ! heavenly bliss ! delight past all expression

!

how consoling, how sweet the presence of Jesus to the longing,

harassed soul ! It is instant peace, and balm to every wound.

CHAPTER XXV.

MY "WORK.

One of the signs of a perfect conversion is a great zea?. to

convert others ; and with this desire my heart was filled. I

felt deeply impressed that my Divine Master had appointed to

me a great work, but in what particular sphere it was to be

carried out, occurred to me in a most singular manner. My

friends were deeply astonished at the unexpected change mani-

fested in me. Peace illuminated my countenance, which had

so long been clouded with grief. A smile replaced the deep

lines which sorrow had drawn round my mouth. Heavenly

joy shone from eyes accustomed to heart-wrung tears.

- A few mornings after my wonderful conversion, I told the

friend whom I was visiting that the cause of my happiness was

the grace of a change of heart. I had found that for which I

had sought vainly for years. At last I had the assurance in

my soul that my sins were all forgiven through the merits of

Christ alone. I told her that I also felt that 1 had a great

work to do. To her question, " Edith, what are you going to

do ?" I replied without a moment's premeditation, " I am

going to lecture." I was amazed at my own words. Lecture I

(181)

182 MY WORK.

impossible. I, a weak timid woman, could never face assem-

bled multitudes. Naturally retiring, I shrank from publicity,

and moreover I disapproved of women appearing on the ros-

trum. I was surprised that such a thought should occur to

my mind. It was certainly one of the ideas remotest from my

thoughts, but the more I tried to banish the suggestion as pre-

posterous the more vividly it forced itself upon me as being

the will of God, and if so I would hazard my life in its fulfil-

ment. God in all a^es hath chosen " the weak ones of the

earth to confound the mighty." I knew that of myself I could

do nothing, but " I could do all things through Him who

strengthened me." God had prepared me for His work

through the fiery crucible of untold tribulation, therefore I

rose in the strength and majesty of God to do His will.

My nature shrank from all the opposition, danger, slander,

and persecution I must encounter in the outset of such a task,

nevertheless like clay in the hands of the potter, I was subser-

vient to what I felt to be the good pleasure of God. The res-

olution to lecture strengthened every hour, until I seemed con-

sumed with the desire, and accordingly I prepared a lecture.

Gertrude at first regarded my determination as the result of a

deranged mind, but finally was brought to think it a good

work, and lent me a helping hand. She went at my request

to see Ralph Waldo Emerson, and procure his interest in my

undertaking. On the 20th of September, 18G9, in company

with Gertrude I went to Concord, Mass., and spent the day at

the pleasant home of Mr. Emerson, the philosopher and poet.

In the evening of the same day, I addressed an audience of

MY WORK. 183

about twenty persons in the town hall. My audience, although

small, was composed of the leading literary lights. R. W.

Emerson and wife, Rev. Mr. Alcott and daughters, one of

them, Louisa M., being the well known authoress of " Little

Women ;" and other distinguished names, for which the old

town of Concord is remarkable, encouraged me by their pres-

ence. Mr. Emerson advised me to continue the work I had

undertaken, assuring me that I had the ability and knowledge

to impart instruction to mankind.

Thus encouraged I resolved to go at once to " Jerusalem

and beard the lion in his den." Accordingly, with only fifteen

dollars in my possession, which Gertrude had given me, I ar-

rived in Jersey City, and in the heart of my former co-relig-

ionists, in the very community where I had spent the most of

my convent life, I gave my second lecture. I had not one

single friend at that time in Jersey City, neither had I money

enough to pay for hall or advertisements. However, I was

about my Master's work, and I knew He would accomplish it

in me. I wrent to the office of the Evening Journal, the lead-

ing paper of the city, and to one of the firm I made known

my object. He encouraged me in it, and directed me to the

proprietor of Cooper Hall, who was kind enough to place it at

my service without requiring payment in advance as is custom-

ary. The publisher of the Evening Journal, being a humane

and generous hearted man, kindly told me to give myself no

uneasiness about the cost of advertisements, and if the lecture

failed to prove successful he did not wish any payment. So

my first lecture in Jersey City was advertised, and on the

184 MY WORK.

evening of October 5th, I addressed an audience of about four

hundred persons in Cooper Hall. I knew not who among

them were friends or enemies. During the lecture I was occa-

sionally interrupted by Catholic servant girls. At the conclu-

sion of the lecture a large number of newly made friends

gathered around me, grasped me by the hand, and begged me

to continue in my work, and give them another lecture.

Among those who thus gathered around me, were many Cath-

olic young ladies, formerly my pupils in the convent at Hud-

son City. These embraced me most affectionately, and

indorsed my statements.

In leaving the hall, an attempt was made to " lynch '" me,

several kitchen girls threatening to " mash my face" with their

umbrellas. However, aided by friends I escaped unharmed.

In compliance with the request of many persons, I consented

to give another lecture in Jersey City. In the meantime it

was necessary that I should get board and protection in a pri-

vate family, because it was unsafe for me to remain at the

hotel where I had taken rooms, on account of the servants. I

was introduced to Rev. L. R. Dunn, who was then pastor of

St. Paul's M. E. Church ; he kindly recommended me to Mrs.

H. M. Dunning, a Methodist lady, who nobly opened her

doors to shelter me from my enemies. In offering me a home

she exposed her house to the attack of Catholics who swore

vengeance upon me.

Before I proceed farther I will dwell briefly on the goodness

of this lady. Mrs. H. M. Dunning is a woman of sterling

> 'rt*n And a perfect type of the courageous Christian. When

MY WORK. 185

I was friendless, obscure, and unknown, she took me in with-

out the slightest hesitation ; at a time too, when it was haz-

ardous to herself and family, and when others refused to give

me shelter at any price for fear of the mob violence of Catho-

lics. Words are inadequate to do justice to the Christian

heroism of Mrs. H. M. Dunning. She is the descendant of

a brave family of Christians ; her grandfather, the Rev. John

B. Matthias, was the good pioneer of Methodism, in the state

of N. Y. He planted the societies of Tarrytown, Nyack,

Haverstraw, and many other places, enduring all the early

privations of the local and itinerant ministry. His son, Rev.

John J. Matthias, established Methodism in Staten Island, N.

Y. This Christian lady has at the present time many uncles

and cousins in the M. E. ministry. Among her cousins is

Rev. B. Adams of the New York East conference. With this

noble woman I found a home for nearly one year. She was

to me as a tender mother, a steadfast friend, devoted sister and

companion ; often endangering her life by accompanying me

wherever I went. Many times noisy crowds of Catholics

gathered around her house, throwing stones, breaking windows,

etc. She nobly defended me when falsely maligned and mis-

represented. Her motive was so elevated that she offered me

a home free of compensation. The practical christian church

needs no abler representative than Mrs. H. M. Dunning. My

soul overflows with gratitude towards her ; and while I live

she shall hold the first place among friends in my heart of

hearts, and I shall continue to pray God to make her the re-

cipient of many of His good and perfect gifts.

18G . MY WORK.

Gertrude, hearing through the press of the danger which

menaced me, came to Jersey City, and remained while I con-

tinued my lectures in that city. I had prepared a new lecture

entitled, " Convent Life," and delivered it in Cooper Hall two

weeks after the first. The hall was crowded. Dr. AYm. But-

ler was there, and I was introduced to the audience by the

chief editor of the Evening Journal. That was the first time

I met that noble defender of truth, fair pla}r, and free speech.

The interest of the public being now thoroughly awakened, I

prepared another lecture. I tried to secure a church which

could accommodate a larger number of people than Cooper

Hall, and accordingly made application for the largest church

in the city, but was refused for fear of mob violence. The fol-

lcwing extracts from editorial notices in the Evening Journal

will explain some of the difficulties which, beset me.

u A CHURCH OPENED FOR TRUTH.

In this community Edith O'Gorman appeals to the christian

public, not for redress, for that she cannot get, but to expose

the sins and shams of that system, and of those institutions

which make such fearful wrongs possible of perpetration, and

nearly impossible of punishment. She is freed at last from

the trammels of early prejudice, and defying the fear of perse-

cution she proposes to tell her sad and truthful experience.

If ever any injured woman was entitled to be heard, she is.

Yet in tins very community where the system responsible for

her wrongs flourishes, and where the spires of Protestant

churches may be seen from every corner, her application for

MY WORK. 187

the use of a Christian church in which to deliver a public lec-

ture is refused. We say that this refusal was an act of cow-

ardice of which not only Christians, but men should be

ashamed. Not only this but notices of her lecture, to be given

in a public hall to which she was driven by those who control

the churches, were in some of the churches suppressed, the

parties to whom they were given not daring to have them read.

This also we must characterize as narrow-minded and cowardly.

What decent excuse can be given by Protestant christians for

thus declining even the smallest show of sympathy for this

persecuted but brave girl, who has been converted from Cath-

olicism, not by Protestant preaching, but by her cruel experi-

ence of the crimes and persecutions that are the fruits of the

Komish conventual system. Why this discrimination in tins

case ? To a reformed inebriate like Gough, or a reformed

gambler like Green, churches are readily thrown open and

notices of their lectures are read without hesitation. Yet they,

noble reformers as they are, have not half the claim to chris-

tian sympathy that Edith 0'Gorman has, for they were the

victims of their own follies, while she comes before the com-

munity with no stain of guilt of her own upon her. The evils

which they seek to reform are fearful and gigantic, but are

they any more terrible than those which this brave girl ex-

poses? That Edith O'Gorman should have to ask twice f^r

the privilege of paying for the use of a Protestant church in

which to expose the errors and misdeeds of the monastic and

conventual institutions of this country, and should have been

refused is simply a shame. We are pleased to record the fact

188 MY WORK.

that the trustees of the North Baptist Church, have granted

the use of their church building to Miss Edith O'Gorman for

the purpose of giving her next lecture. There would be noth-

ing noteworthy in this were it not for the fact that previous

applications made for a similar purpose have been refused by

at least two of the Protestant churches in this city. The lec-

turer of course willingly pays the price demanded for the use

of the church, so that the refusal could not be based on finan-

cial objections. We believe her applications were refused be-

cause those who control the churches were afraid of mob vio-

lence, broken windows, etc. This reason ought not to have

influenced any Protestant for a moment. If the truth against

Romanism and the evil practices of the Romish priesthood may

not be spoken in Protestant churches, where shall it find a

voice ? We do not believe that any mob will attack any Prot-

estant church in this city, but if we feared they would we

certainly would not be so cowardly as to shut up any church

on that account. The advocates and friends of truth should

always be bold enough to insist on their rights, and to protect

others in their exercise, and no apprehension of violent oppo-

sition should ever be allowed to put any kind of a gag upon

free speech. They should risk the smashing of every pane of

glass, in every window of every Protestant church ; the sacrifice

of a lot of window glass for the vindication of the right of free

speech, would not in our judgment be a very heavy thing. Weare glad that the trustees of the North Baj)tist Church have

shown that they think it right that at least one Protestant

church should open its doors to give a hearing to one who is

MY WORK. 189

desirous of giving testimony against error and wrong-doing,

and for truth and righteousness."

From the Evening Journal of Nov. 17th, 18G9.

"Miss O'Gorman's Third Lecture—The Audience In-

tensely Interested—She is Invited to Repeat the

Lecture.—The North Baptist Church was filled last evening

to its full capacity by one of the most intelligent audiences

ever assembled in this city, to listen to the lecture by Miss

Edith 0'Gorman on the Roman Catholic Priesthood: their

rule over their people, and what it leads to. Among the audi-

ence we noticed several of our clergymen, many of our most

respectable Catholic citizens, and one-half of the audience, we

should judge, were ladies. Every seat in the house was occu-

pied, and the deepest interest in the lecture was manifest

throughout. The effect produced by the lecture may be esti-

mated by the report which we give of an impromptu meeting

which was organized immediately after the lecture for the pur-

pose of securing its repetition. Before the introduction of the

lecturer, prayer was offered by Rev. Dr. Parmley. Miss 0'-

Gorman, who is decidedly prepossessing in appearance, was

neatly attired in black ; she proceeded in a clear, musical voice,

and very distinct utterance to deliver her lecture, occupying s*

little more than an hour, and often eliciting the most hearty

applause, etc."

From the Evening Journal.

"Repetition of Miss O'Gorman's Lecture.—Our ref-

ers will remember that the delivery of the lecture of M5s»

190 MY WORK.

O'Gorman on the ' Romish Priesthood/ a few evenings since,

in the North Baptist Church, gave so much satisfaction to the

large and respectable audience which listened to it, that an

impromptu meeting was held at the close of the lecture, and it

was voted to request Miss O'Gorman to repeat it in this city.

A committee was appointed to carry out the resolution of the

meeting, and, in accordance with their instructions, they have

secured the repetition of the lecture on Tuesday evening next,

Nov. 30, at the North Baptist Church, in Jersey avenue. The

following correspondence explains the matter fully

:

< Jersey City, Nov. 16, 1869.

Miss Edith O Gorman

:

—At a meeting held in the Chapel of

the North Baptist Church, at the close of your lecture this

evening, a resolution was adopted that you be requested to re-

peat the same, and the undersigned were appointed the com-

mittee to convey to you the request. In carrying out the di-

rection of the meeting, please permit us to earnestly express

to you the desire we have that you may deem it compatible

with your other duties to comply. We believe that the lessons

inculcated by your able and opportune lecture are upon mat-

ters of grave importance to the people, and about which it is

desirable that they should be better informed. With great re-

spect, Your ob't servants,

Lewis Neil,Wm. A. Lewis,Z. K. Pangborn, \ Committee.'

W. B. Dunning,A. D. Whyte,

MY WORK. 191

< Jersey City, Nov. 19, 1869.

To the Gentlemen of the Committee,—Very Kind Sirs

:

—Your magnanimous resolution being duly

submitted, has been read with the deepest feeling of gratitude

for the very high honor you have conferred upon me. I most

gladly comply with the request stated in the resolution, to re-

peat the lecture on " The Roman Catholic Priesthood," on any

day next week that the committee may deem advisable. Thank-

in or the o-entlemen of the committee for their noble disinterest-

ed sympathy and support, that give me fresh heart and strength

in my undertaking,

I am, Very Respectfully Yours,

Edith O'Gorman.'"

Thus encouraged by some of the most prominent citizens of

Jersey City, and despite the numerous threats made by igno-

rant Catholics to shoot me in the pulpit, and regardless of the

foul calumny, slanders, and persecutions of my enemies, I pre-

pared a fourth lecture, entitled " The Confessional, etc.," and

gave it in the largest church in the city, which I procured with-

out any further difficulty after the Baptists had bravely paved

the way. Many of the Catholic priests attended this lecture,

and I exposed their misdemeanors to their very faces. Among

those present was Rev. Father Owens, whom my readers will

remember I met in the steerage of the " Siberia" on my return

voyage from Liverpool. Bishop Bayley had received this sus-

pended priest into the diocese of N. J., making him an assist-

ant curate with Father Corrigan of St. Peter's Church, Jersey

9

192 MY WORK.

City. Bishop Bayley seems to have a secret sympathy for all

renegade priests, for reasons best known to himself. I exposed

Father Owens to his face, and his expulsion from Jersey City

was the result. My success as a lecturer was wonderfully es-

tablished, as the following editorial will show

:

From the Evening Journal of December loth.

"Miss O'Gorman as a Lecturer.—Few things more re-

markable have occurred than the experience and success of

Miss Edith O'Gorman as a public lecturer. She came here a

little more than two months ago without money, without friends,

without any existing public interest in the subject that engross-

ed her own thoughts. She came with only a fixed purpose of

making known to the public what she knows and believes of

the errors and wrongs of the Romish system of religion. She

came here to give her first lecture, because it was here that she

spent her Convent life, and here that she escaped from it after

being so foully wronged ; and here if anywhere her enemies

could meet her face to face if they should dare to do so. She

had then only one lecture prepared for delivery, and had never

herself heard a public lecture or address given by any one, ex-

cept sermons by priests and ministers. The draft of her first

lecture had been submitted to the criticism of Ralph Waldo

Emerson—and there could be no severer critic—who advised

Miss O'Gorman to carry out her design of delivering it in pub-

lic, and she came here for that purpose. But up to that mo-

ment this was all the assistance or encouragement she had re-

ceived. The false statement "has been repeatedly made by the

MY WORK. 193

Standard publicly, and by individuals privately, that Miss

O'Gorman's lectures are not composed or written by herself.

This statement we personally and positively know to be false.

For whatever merits her lectures possess Miss O'Gorman is

alone entitled to the credit. The statements, arguments, and

language are all her own. Her success as a public lecturer

must be regarded as extraordinary. Her third lecture drew

a full house on the occasion of its first delivery, and an equally

large audience was in attendance when it was repeated ; and

her fourth lecture, the report of which we complete to-day, at-

tracted a larger audience to the Tabernacle than any other

lecture of the season, J. B. Gough's included. Yet her first re-

ception in this city was chilling enough. It was with some

difficulty that a hall was procured for the delivery of her first

lecture ; the only favorable public notice which she could ob-

tain was given to her by the Evening Journal ; the first at-

tempts to secure the use of churches for the delivery of her

lecture failed ; most knew nothing of her, or what she proposed

to do, others doubted her capacity or her worth, others feared

that there would be mob violence, and others still were afraid

that it might not be just the proper thing to encourage or in-

dorse a friendless girl, who had no helpers but God and her

own conscientious purpose ; in short, the welcome she received

at first from the Protestant Christian community was of the

coldest kind. We spoke, as we felt we ought, in rebuke of

this indifference and cowardice, and need not now repeat it.

As we expected the result would be, so it is ; Miss O'Gorman

has now no lack of friends, or of indorsers of the course she

194 MY WORK.

has chosen. The malice and slanders of her enemies have

done her no harm, and whatever may be thought of her views

and opinions, no one, who has listened to or read her lectures,

can doubt either her sincerity or ability. We cannot venture

to predict what the result of her efforts may be. The Church

of Rome has had many powerful assailants whom she has re-

sisted with a greater or less degree of success. The attack

made by Miss O'Gorman is of an unprecedented kind. It

comes not in the shape of sermons from the pulpit, or essays

from the press, but in that of the living voice of a wronged

woman, protesting against the Church which has both misguid-

ed and wronged her, and choosing the free public assembly and

lecturer's platform on which to throw down the gauntlet of de-

fiance to her numerous and powerful enemies. The American

public, even without hearing her, cannot help admiring her

courage. When they have heard her, they will concede her

ability and fitness for the task which she has so successfully

commenced in this city."

I lectured seven times in Jersey City in less than two

months. In the brilliant success which crowned my labor I

discerned the powerful hand of God, whose strength was made

perfect in my weakness ; and to Him be all the glory. Al-

though I encountered many difficulties and annoyances from

JHy enemies through their unjust calumnies and slanders, yet I

never for a single moment lost my peace of mind, centered as

it is in God. One of the effects of my conversion is, that my

heart, which was once so rebellious, now experiences a perfect

MY WORK. 195

resignation to all trials and persecutions which assail me. I

can now endure calumnies, base slanders, unjust suspicion, and

criticisms with the same equanimity of spirit as I receive laud-

ation and praise. Silently as the dews of Heaven descend

upon the flowers of the field and cause them to give forth their

fragrance, so does the grace of God descend upon my new-born

soul, inspiring it with the ability to send forth good deeds.

^Hfe^ffc&tf^

CHAPTER XXYI.

THE MADISON RIOT AND ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION.

The North Baptist Church in Jersey City was the first

Christian church hi which I vindicated truth, and in that church

I found a resting place, and was there baptized on the 26th of

December, 1869, by the Pastor, Rev. H. A. Cordo. I did not

connect myself with this church because my salvation depend-

ed on it ; no, my salvation depends on Christ alone ; neither

was I actuated by any sectarian motive, because I regard all

denominations, which are united in the One Head, Jesus Christ,

as equal.

In March, 1870, I addressed the New York East, and New-

ark Conferences of M. E. Ministers. With reference to that

address I give the following newspaper extract under date of

March 26th.

'The Third day of the Newark M. E. Conference—Edith 0'Gorman before the conference.

Before the appointed hour to hear Miss Edith O'Gorman,

St. Paul's Church was crowded to overflowing, not a foot of

standing room could be had, and many went away unable to

gain admittance. This was the largest gathering since the

(196)

ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. 197

conference met, and the deepest interest to hear the " Convert-

ed Nun," was visibly manifested throughout the congregation.

In introducing Miss O' Gorman, Rev. L. R. Dunn said the lady

who was about to speak was well known in this city. She has

come before the public from time to time, and given her ex-

perience of the inner life of convents. She has been requested

to come here this afternoon and give us an inside view of

Romanism. We know her, and her statements may be taken

with the utmost confidence. She has renounced Romanism,

and has connected herself with a christian church in this city,

Rev. Mr. Parsons, who heard me for the first time at this

conference, engaged me to lecture in his church in Madison,

N. J., for a benevolent purpose, which engagement I fulfilled

on the evenings of the 14th and 15th of April, 1869. Through

the expositions which I made in my lectures to Protestant

parents of the danger of placing their children in convent

schools, St. Elizabeth's Academy in Madison was stripped of

its Protestant support. So when I visited Madison, the Cath-

olics resolved to silence my voice forever, as the following re-

port published April 16th, 1870, will explain:

"EDITH O'GORMAN MOBBED.AN ATTEMPT TO KILL HER.

A disgraceful riot at Madison—Miss O Gorman lectures and the

Catholics assail her—^'llie house where she stays guarded.

Miss Edith O'Gorman, so well known here as a public lec-

turer, gave lectures at Madison, Morris County, on Thursday

198 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION.

and Friday evenings of this week, and last night a disgrace-

nil riot was created by some of the Roman Catholic popula-

tion of that place, and an attempt was made to shoot Miss

O' German. Madison was the place where Miss O'Gorman

first entered the Roman Catholic sisterhood as a nun, and the

headquarters of the order to which she once belonged is

located there. The lectures which she delivered at Madison

were advertised, that on " Convent Life," for Thursday, that

on the " Romish Priesthood " for last evening, and both were

delivered in the Methodist Church before audiences that com-

pletely filled the building. Many persons on both evenings

went away unable to get into the church. On Thursday eve-r

ning Miss 0'Gorman was frequently and rudely interrupted

by Catholics in the audience, and much disturbance was cre-

ated both inside and outside of the house, but no personal

violence was offered. Threats, however, were freely made,

that if Miss O'Gorman attempted to. lecture last night, all the

Roman Catholics within five miles should be assembled, and

Miss O'Gorman should be " done for."

"Last night the church was again filled, and Miss O'Gorman

gave her lecture as advertised. There was no disturbance in-

side the room during the delivery of the lecture, but a vast

mob gathered outside, and several attempts were made by

persons to get in at the windows, and there was yelling and

•uproar about the building. When Miss O' Gorman, at the

conclusion of the lecture, came out of the church in company

with Rev. Mr. Parsons, who was her escort, and went to get

into the carriage which was in waiting, a rush was made by

ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. 199

the mob, a frightful yelling was raised, and all sorts of abusive

languaga were used. The crowd closed around Miss O'Gor-

man, but were kept back partially by a strong body-guard of

the students of Drew Seminary. The horse attached to the

carriage was frightened and ran, but was caught and stopped,

and with much difficulty Miss O'Gorman and Mr. Parsons

entered the carriage. Just as Miss 0'Gorman stepped into it,

a pistol shot was fired directly at her, but fortunately the ball

missed its aim, passing over her head, and the carriage

was driven rapidly away to the parsonage, followed by both

crowds, Catholics, among whom were a large number of women,

and the students and other persons, who were Miss O' Gorman's

friends. On arriving at the house it was surrounded by the

mob, and stones were thrown and violent language used, but

Miss O'Gorman was safely escorted into the parsonage. Astrong guard of citizens surrounded the house, some constables

assisting them, and nearly all the students of the seminary aid-

ing in repelling the mob, which did not disperse until midnight.

The students guarded the house till this morning, and then sent

a deputation of their number on the train to escort Miss

0'Gorman safely to her home in this city.

"That she is as fearless a public speaker as any man or woman

that ever stood on the rostrum on in the pulpit, we think even

her enemies will admit. They must not think they can advan-

tage their cause by demonstrations of violence towards her.

.

A church or an organization that cannot meet the attack of

one woman in any way but by such assaults as were made at

Madison must be weak indeed.

200 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION.

"This affair has created intense excitement in and around

Madison. It is not known who fired the shot, but the leaders

of the mob are known, and the authorities will take measures

to bring the guilty parties to justice."

God being my protector I was not intimidated by the at-

tempted assassination. I was laboring in a good cause, and

if my Master required my life I was ready and willing to sac-

rifice it for the sake of Him who was crucified for me. I felt

immortal until His work was done. In three days after the

riot I fulfilled an engagement to lecture in Morristown, about

four miles from Madison, and was there received with great

enthusiasm. Of these lectures the Morristown paper in an

issue of April 27th, 1870, says :

" Washington Hall last evening was densely filled by a very

select and intelligent audience, all intent and eager to hear

Miss O'Gorman deliver her lecture on ' Indigencies/ Her

remarks during the delivery and at the conclusion of the lec-

ture elicited the most intense and deafening applause, the style

in some cases exhibiting her penchant for humorous colloquy,

and at other times rising into high and classical diction.

"At the close a few remarks were made by Rev. Mr. Parsons,

under whose auspices the lectures were given, who took occa-

sion to publicly thank the citizens of Morristown for their re-

spectful attention, and the kind interest and sympathy mani-

fested in favor of Miss 0'Gorman; and he then donated to the

Grand Army of the Republic of Morristown, an amount of

money equal to that received at the previous lecture. All

persons who desired, whether Roman Catholics or Protestants,

ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. 201

were cordially invited to come on the rostrum and be person-

ally presented to Miss O'Gorman. Many of both sects gladly

availed themselves of the coveted opportunity, after which, ac-

companied by her escort, she quietly went to the U. S. Hotel,

notwithstanding the New York Sun's correspondence to the con-

trary. Her lectures here have been a decided success, and all

express a unanimous desire to have her speak again, and

nowhere will Miss O'Gorman receive a warmer or more cor

dial welcome than by the good citizens of Morristown, whose

law abiding, order loving proclivities of free speech are appar-

ent to all. Miss 0'Gorman as a sj3eaker certainly ranks

among the first of her sex. Her appearance and manner on

the rostrum are excellent, enunciation clear and distinct, appeals

eloquent and earnest, and marked throughout by a simplicity

of manner, and the unmistakeable stamp of a true lady. She

is doing a great and noble work, and the prayer of every lover

of truth is that God will strengthen, aid, and protect her, as

He certainly will, in her vindication of truth, and exposure of

guilt and corruption. By her extreme courtesy, affableness of

manner and lady-like deportment she completely won the

esteem, sympathy, and affection of all who met her."

In condemnation of the Madison riot the Newark Courier

says

:

"If proof were needed of the truth of Miss O' Gorman's

charges, it would be found in such demonstrations as that which

took place at Madison, in the cowardly attempt to shoot a de-

fenseless woman. Such gross disregard of law and order is a

shame and disgrace to the good name of New Jersey, and which

202 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION.

should not be passed by unnoticed. Let each and all the

cowardly scoundrels be seized and brought to justice; and let

the law they have outraged be vindicated to the fullest possible

extent, and we shall certainly be disappointed if the responsi-

ble heads of the Roman Catholic church in this vicinity do not

only disavow all sympathy with the rioters, but also lend their

assistance in securing their conviction and punishment."

On the contrary, however, the responsible heads of the

Roman Catholic church made every effort to free the rioters,

and the result was that through Catholic influence the would-

be assassin was not convicted, although there were witnesses

who could swear to his identity, and when the witnesses were

called the Grand Jury refused to hear them, and the rioters

were set free without even a fine or reprimand.

Dear readers, is not this a powerful evidence of the foothold

Catholicism holds in the United States ? Is it not most alarm-

ing that Rome in this free country and age can thus defeat the

ends of justice by its insidious outworks ? A creed too, which

carries with it " Gunpowder plots," " blood inquisitions," and

" St. Bartholomew massacres," which instigates crime and over-

rides the law ! And here I ask in the name of humanity, why

are Catholics allowed in tins land of freedom thus to suppress

any judicial interference with their despotism, and prevent any

discussion even of their creed? In other words, why will

American Protestants suffer the aggressions of Romanism to

interfere with the liberty of their government ? to prevent and

dwarf the growth of their institutions ? Will it ever be writ-

ten by the future historian that the Papal Power was trans-

ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. 203

ferred from Rome to the United States ? that the Jesuits de-

spoiled the rightful possessors of their free government ? The

Roman Catholic priests are cunning, and yet exhibit in the pres-

ent age an unprecedented boldness. Things are coming rapidly

to an issue, and the signs of a mighty struggle are multiplying,

and may soon bring a crisis so solemn and momentous as to

shake to their foundation the errors of the Roman Catholic

church. I have no fear for the ultimate issue, for truth will

obtain the supremacy, and God will protect his own.

WU^

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE EFFORT TO SILENCE ME BY UNFOUNDED SLANDERS.

" Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute

you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for

My sake." There are some men who can only war with de-

fenceless women, and among these I will particularly classify

the editors of the Paterson Guardian and the Jersey City

American Standard, who leveled their spite against me in base

insinuations and invectives, which I patiently overlooked and

silently contemned. My enemies, having failed to silence the

voice of truth by an attenrpted assassination, resort to the most

malicious calumny, in which a Catholic reporter, in the columns

of the New York Sun, charges me with swindling Sadlier &

Co., a Catholic publishing house, and Turgis, a Catholic picture

dealer. My enemies, thinking I would also silently overlook

this charge, however, mistook me, for this new and malicious

attack fired my soul with indignation, and alone and unpro-

tected I confronted Sadlier and Turgis ; they protested they

knew nothing about it, and no such reports had originated from

them. I then jDroceeded to the Sun office and requested a re-

porter to accompany me to those houses and have the false

(204)

THE EFFORT TO SILENCE ME. 205

charges refuted. However, I was put off until four p. m., and

in the meantime I returned to my residence, where I found

Rev. Mr. Parsons of Madison, who, in company with Mrs. H.

M. Dunning, proceeded with me to the Sun office at the ap-

pointed time. Securing a reporter, we visited the Catholic

firms, who were put to the greatest confusion and humiliation

by our visit ; and the result was that the barefaced falsehoods

of the Catholics recoiled upon their own heads, as the following

publication of April 27th truthfully details

:

"Miss O'Gorman's Slanderers—Their Charges Re-

futed.—The New York Sun published on the 25th an article

in which it was stated that Miss Edith O'Gorman, 'after she

was expelled from the Convent/ obtained money under false

pretences from two firms in New York, Sadlier & Co., and

Turds & Co. These are both Catholic houses. There was a

double falsehood in the statement, for Miss O'Gorman never

was expelled from any Convent, and never applied for nor got

a dollar from either of those houses since she left the Convent

and the 'Order' to which she belonged. She acted very

promptly in meeting these slanders. She called first alone on

both houses and demanded to know if they authorized any

such slanderous statements as were published. They disavow-

ed all knowledge of such reports, and were very much disposed

to entreat her to cease giving lectures and troubling the

' Church,' but she informed them that she did not appear there

to receive advice, but to have them do justice by refuting the

20G THE EFFORT TO SILENCE ME.

false reports which they knew to be false. At both places the

result was that the persons connected with these firms declared

that Miss O'Gorman was never before in their houses except

in the nun's dress, and when, as a nun, she purchased books

and pictures for the Convent. So the slander in the Sun was

effectually disposed of. Miss O'Gorman next solicited a re-

porter of the Sun to accompany her to the places of business

of these two firms, and hear their retraction from themselves.

In company with the reporter, and with Rev. Mr. Parsons of

Madison, the visit was paid, and after much hesitation and dodg-

ing, and with great reluctance, similar admissions were made

by the parties of the falsity of the reports published. Thus

promptly Miss O'Gorman secured a refutation of this latest

slander. What the next false accusation will be against the

lady, no one can tell, but whatever it is it will be promptly

met. An incident reported by the Sun illustrates the style of

doing things adopted by some of Miss 0'Gorman's enemies.

In the presence of Rev. Mr. Parsons and the Sun reporter,

the clerk of Sadlier & Co., said that the fact of Sister ' Teresa

'

having applied for a loan ' was reported by letter to Mother

Xavier, and she returned a reply that no sister was empowered

to borrow money or contract debts by her, nevertheless, she

would pay back the money, and did send it to them, requesting

them not to lend money again to any of the Sisters, as she

would not pay it.' Now for the trap that caught Sadlier's

clerk. At Miss O'Gorman's request Rev. Mr. Parsons went,

immediately after hearing these accounts, to Madison, called on

THE EFFORT TO SILENCE ME. 207

Mother Xavier, who, of course, knew nothing of the interviews

with the New York Catholics, and inquired if she had any

such correspondence with either of these houses. She told

Rev. Mr. Parsons that she never received nor wrote any letters

on any such subject, and knew nothing about such a loan ! Rev.

Mr. Parsons telegraphed to the Sun the result of his interview

with Mother Xavier. We think that will do. The parties

can settle between themselves which lied about the business.

We have given this account of this affair, not because the

slanders were likely to injure Miss 0'Gorman, but to show the

fashion in which her enemies attack her, and how ready she is

to meet all their attacks."

Another slander, in which Catholics tried to justify the Madi-

son riot, appeared in the Sun ; which, while it was malicious,

was so stupid that its falsity appeared on the surface. This

slander originated from a Paterson correspondent, who, al-

though he did not sign any name, I have no hesitancy in pro-

nouncing Dr. Quin (he who was so ignominiously defeated in

his controversy with me) as the author of the letter. The

Journal of Jersey City thus speaks of it

:

" Some base and foolish persons among the Roman Catholics

seemed determined to supplement the disgraceful mob violence,

and the attempt to assassinate Miss Edith O'Gorman at Madi-

son, by the most reckless forgeries and stupid lying. The

N. Y. Sun of this morning publishes a letter dated at Paterson

yesterday, but not signed by anybody, which illustrates the

208 THE EFFORT TO SILENCE ME.

foolish and blind fury of some of those Roman Catholics who

are enraged by Miss O'Gorman's public charges against the

Church and hierarchy. The letter in the Sun is, from begin-

ning to end, an unbroken string of forgeries and lies. The

Sun heads it ' The Roman Catholic side of the Madison riot,'

showing that the Sun knows the author to be a Roman Catho-

lie. But the letter does not contain one word in reference to

Miss O'Gorman's lecture at Madison, nor does the writer ven-

ture to say a word in contradiction of the disgraceful facts of

that Roman Catholic riot, and attempt to murder a woman.

The writer commences with this sentence : ' The riot at Madi-

son, where Edith 0'Gorman is well known, ought to end her

denunciatory tour.' Well, it was the intention of those who

raised that mob and riot that it should end her lecturing, for

they threatened that they would take her life, and did attempt

to murder her. But their intention was foiled. The letter in

the Sun states that Miss O'Gorman was ' expelled from the or-

der and the Convent.' That is a falsehood, as everybody here

and in Hudson City knows. The letter again says that Miss

O'Gorman was sent to Hoboken, that she did certain things in

Hoboken. Now Miss O'Gorman never was at Hoboken in

her life, except to pass through the place as a traveler. But

to show how scurvy and silly a liar the Paterson Roman Catho-

lic is, we quote one of his statements. 'On account of what

had transpired at Hoboken Miss O'Gorman was expelled from

the Convent, and we next hear of her in an editor's office in

Jersey City, where she was found by the editorial better half.

THE EFFORT TO SILENCE ME. 209

The incensed wife of the editor handled her roughly, notwith-

standing the editor declared she was only helping him to read

proof.' Not only is that totally false in every line and word,

but there was never any circumstance or occurrence at any

time or of any sort which could afford even the slightest found-

ation for the lie. It is a willful lie, made up without the faint-

est shadow of fact to originate it. But a score of similar lies

have been concocted and told here, none of them receiving any

credence in this community, even by the Catholic population.

Who originates these silly and malicious lies we don't know,

nor do they deserve any notice, except as showing that the

only weapons which Miss O'Gorman's enemies seem to know

how or dare to use are lying, slander, and forgery, resorted to

by those who do know enough to use such base means, and

mob violence, and assassination, to winch the lower, more igno-

rant, and more excitable class of Miss O'Gorman's haters seem

to take naturally."

My reputation was in the hands of my Master, and I knew

He would take care of it ; and if for a time He permitted the

foul breath of slander to attack my fair name, it was only to

add to my future glory and the humiliation of my enemies,

who thus sought to vanquish me, only to find themselves van-

quished and put to confusion, while I remained clad in the

strong armor of truth, honor, and integrity. " Blessed are

they who suffer persecution for righteousness sake, for theirs is

the kingdom of heaven," is the soothing promise which fell

from the lips of the Man of Sorrows, who was reviled, calum-

210 THE EFFORT TO SILENCE ME.

niated, and persecuted, although He was the Son of God, the

essence of goodness, the King of Heaven. Although my en-

emies for a while compassed me about on every side, yet I

feared no evil, because the Lord was my defense. "Yea

though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I

will fear no evil, for Thou art with me ; Thy rod and Thj

staff they comfort me."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

GOD BLESSES MY WORK IN THE CONVERSION OF MANY.

There is no greater proof needed to convince my readers

that my. work is of God and blessed by him than the evidence

contained in the following recital of facts. In Newark, N. J.,

two Catholic families were brought to see the errors of their

religion, through my instrumentality, and others in Jersey City,

Hudson City, and New York. Many Protestant parents have

discontinued the catholic education of their children by with-

drawing them from convent schools. Amonof other catholics

converted through my influence, is my own brother who has

entered on probation in the M. E. Church ; also two young

ladies of Hudson City who were formerly my pupils, one of

these was not only converted but was saved the awful fate of

entering a convent whither the Sisters were trying to entice

her, and to whom she was on the point of yielding.

Besides these evidences of the power of God which have

come to my personal knowledge, there are similar conversions

which have been the result of my lectures in the different

places I have visited. It is not yet one year since I com-

menced to lecture, and in this short time my practical success

(211)

212 MY WORK BLESSED.

exceeds any of my more popular cotemporaries in the same

field. During the lecturing season I have lectured seven times

in Jersey City, four times in Cooper Institute, New York City,

sixteen times in Newark, twice in Madison, Morristown,

Bayonne City, Hackensack, and Parsippany, N. J., once in

SuiTrens, Port Jervis, and Middletown, N. Y., four times in

"Brooklyn, twice in Nyack, once in Hartford, Buffalo, Roches-

ter, Cincinnati, Chicago, and Paterson, four times in Philadel-

phia, and Cape May—making sixty-one lectures in about four

months : besides having invitations to Washington, Harrisburg,

Pittsburg, Baltimore, St. Louis, Wilmington, Boston, Portland,

Cleveland, and many other of the principal cities of the Union,

but most of which I have been forced to decline because em-

ployed in the preparation of this work.

I have been supported by crowded houses, and by the pop-

ular good will through the Press, especially the religious

organs which speak of my mission as from God. The Phila-

delphia M. E. Home Journal of May 14th, in an editorial on

my lectures in that city, thus says :

" The great entertainment of the week to the citizens of

Philadelphia, has been the lectures of Edith O'Gorman, the

escaped Nun, who on each night addressed large and enthusi-

astic audiences on " Convent Life, and the Romish School

System," and the " Confessional," Indulgences and Papal Su-

premacy. Having listened to her lectures we are prepared to

hail the appearance of this lady as a champion of truth, worthy

and well qualified to combat and expose the formidable errors

and evils of Popery. Miss O'Gorman, late Sister Teresa, has

MY WORK BLESSED. 213

tasted practically the imaginary blessedness of convent life.

She fied from its polluted atmosphere to save that which is

dearer to her than life—her purity, honor and peace ; but with

the stino-ino: remembrance burned into her soul of unnamed

iniquities. She has knelt with the unquestioning obedience

of a blind devotee at the confessional until her reason revolted,

and her ears tingled with very shame ; and instead of finding

what she sought—soul-repose in seclusion, and ardently desired

perfection in penance and idolatrous devotion to Mary, and a

multitude of Saints,—she fled for refuge to Christ Jesus, and

with her former heart idols, and the faith she entertained in

Mother Church all shattered, she has found redemption through

His blood, even the forgiveness of sins.

" With the new found light, and love of the gospel in her

heart, there is nothing vindictive or vituperative apparent in

her chaste and eloquent periods. With pity she turns to the

multitude of her former associates, who grope in darkness and

terror through a life of ignorance, wretchedness and sin, and are

dying without the true knowledge of God, and kindly points

out to them the better way. Her mission in this regard can-

not fail in producing great good. In appearance and manner

she is somewhat below the medium stature, possesses a fine

and pleasing personnel, an eye that fairly blazes with the enthu-

siasm of her theme, and a voice of remarkable distinctness,

compass, and pathos, with a fine emphasis, slightly betraying

her Dublin nativity, and capable of filling the largest hall, and

reaching the ear and heart of assembled thousands.

" Her reception before a Philadelphia audience was unmis-

214 MY WORK BLESSED.

takably cordial. Repeated bursts of applause almost shook

the dome as she laid bare the absurdity and folly of Romish

tradition, described the mumbling mode of prayer on the beads,

and repeated the preposterous form of priestly absolution. Oc-

casionally a keen shaft of satire flashed forth as the thought

of her own personal grief, and the malignant persecutions which

assail her came up incidentally for review. That her life

is in jeopardy she seems to be fully aware, but having taken

shelter beneath the protecting arm of the Almighty, she fears

no evil. She stands defiant before the two-edged sword of

Jesuitical malice, and rings out in tones of unvarnished truth

to Protestant parents and the unsuspecting citizens of this free

land the tocsin of alarm against machinations which with

stealthy and tireless step are compassing sea and land, to sub-

vert virtue, conscience and morality.

" The topics she treated in her lectures embraced many

features of the political, as well as educational, and religious

system of the Romish Church. If she will only embody her

experience and observations in a book, and we think she is

competent to do this as it has never been accomplished before,

such a book will prove a thunder-clap in the clear sky of that

indolent, insolent, and unscrupulous hierarchy that now

dreams of an easy conquest of the land of the Puritans as an

Empire for the re-enactment of the tragedies of the Inquisi-

tion, a domain where human liberty must die, and dark ages

come again. Should Miss 0'Gorman again visit and speak in

our city, winch we hope she will, those who heard her on the

occasion of her first appearance here, will be the most eager,

MY WORK BLESSED. 9,15

we have no doubt, to secure front seats, and hear her again.

She is a communicant in the Baptist Church, and on principle

never speaks to an audience until preceded by prayer to God

for guidance and grace in the dangerous and glorious career

on which she has entered."

Dear readers, I have given you several extracts from the

press, extolling my work because I deem it the most modest

manner in which may be recounted, without appearing egotis-

tical, the wonderful success with which God has blessed my

labors. Oh, how deeply my heart feels that the Lord is my

Shepherd ! Indeed, I shall not want for I trust in Him who

hath made me to lie down in green pastures, and who leadeth

me beside the clear waters.

10

CHAPTER XXIX.

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

In June, 1870, a creature signing himself Thomas Oscar

Roland Keatinge, D. D., LL. D., came to the Third Reformed

Church, Jersey City, and lectured on the Inquisition. He

pretended that he had been ten years in Rome ; an official in

the Roman Court ; Secretary to the late Cardinal d'Andrea,

and assistant librarian in the Index Expurgatorius. He wrote

an article entitled " Ten Years in Rome," which appeared in

the Galaxy of December, 1869. This article is a production

of his inventive imagination. In it he describes the death of

Cardinal d'Andrea as having occurred on the 22d of March,

1865 ; whereas it is ascertained by good authority that Cardi-

nal d'Andrea died in Rome on the 14th of May, 1868, three

years and two months after " Dr." Keatinge had him dead and

buried. The late Cardinal d'Andrea never had a secretary.

The secretary of a Cardinal is an ecclesiastic. When a lay-

man is chosen to fill that place he is called, not the secretary,

but the Chancellor of the Cardinal. Cardinal d'Andrea, from

1852, when he was made Cardinal, down to his death, em-

ployed as Chancellor an estimable and well educated gentle-

(216)

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 217

mau, whom he had known well and had been intimately asso-

ciated with for years before, and who still lives in Rome.

Moreover, no person of the name of T. O. R. Keatinge,

D. D., LL. D., ever filled the office of librarian or assistant li-

brarian of the Index Expurgatorius, or of the Congregation

of the Index, as was ascertained by Father Hecker when he

visited Rome, and I am sure from what I personally know of

Keatinge's falsehoods and power of invention, that Father

Hecker says the truth when he pronounces Keatinge " false,

all false!"

For the benefit of all lovers of truth, and to prevent the

public from being imposed upon by the soi-disant Thomas Os-

car Roland Keatinge, D. D., LL. D., I will relate what I know

of him. I was introduced to this man by Rev. Mr. Suydam,

in the Third Reformed Church, Hamilton Square, Jersey City,

in June, 1870. Gertrude, who came to visit me after the

Madison riot, was with me, and introduced at the same time.

She admired very much his " brilliant and gifted mind," as >?he

termed it, and accepted an invitation from him to visit his

home in Scraalenberg, N. J., where he was assistant minister

in the Dutch Reformed Church, of which Rev. Dr. Gordon is

the pastor. Gertrude visited his home on Saturday, three

days after her introduction to him. I was very much surprised

by this action on her part, because naturally she is very cold

and formal toward strangers.

Gertrude returned on Monday, accompanied by Mrs. Keat-

inge, a woman who presented a very untidy appearance, and

remained over night. Mrs. Keatinge told a pitiful tale of pov-

218 FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

erty and persecution to which he " Dr." and she were subjected,

and in the sympathy of my heart I made some necessary pur-

chase for her, and gave her donations from my wardrobe be-

sides, before she returned to her home.

On Friday of the same week I was very much astonished

when I returned from lecturing in Hackensack, N. J., to find

Keatinge and his wife partaking of Mrs. H. M. Dunning' s hos-

pitality. I treated them with politeness, and thought them

sincere and truthful, although I formed the idea that they were

rather free for strangers in pushing themselves forward as

guests and remaining all night. Gertrude seemed quite charm-

ed with Keatinge's narrative of his wonderful escape from

Rome. lie is a strange looking man, small in stature, and

wearing a profusion of brown beard ; sallow in complexion,

with deep set, fierce looking eyes, overhung by heavy black

brows and presenting a malignant-like appearance. He talked

incessantly of himself and his wonderful adventures, and I be-

lieved him to be all he represented himself to be. The couple

returned to their home in Scraalenberg on Saturday, Gertrude

again accompanying them. The following Tuesday I was very

much surprised to receive a morning call from Keatinge ; he

was alone, and I received him in the front parlor ; the folding

doors which divide the parlors were open, and Mrs. Dunning,

who was reclining on a sofa in the back parlor, could hear and

see all that transpired in the front parlor. Keatinge appeared

singularly pale and agitated, and after a few morning saluta-

tions he thus addressed me.

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 219

" My deah Miss Edith, I have bad news for you, very bad

news indeed."

Thinking something had happened to Gertrude, I asked him

if it was anything concerning her.

" Oh, deah child, no, no ! it is the Catholics, they are con-

cocting a plot against you, so cunningly and maliciously devised,

that it would damn the Queen of England herself if brought

against her. Oh, my deah child, how can I break it to you

!

Promise me, deah, that you will bear it like the brave woman

that you are."

" Speak out, sir, I am listening."

" "Well, deah, I have seen the sworn affidavits of two priests,

five nuns, three children, and two physicians, who have been

bribed by Rev. Father Starrs, vicar general of N. Y., who has

spent over twenty thousand dollars to get up this false and

damning evidence against your reputation, and which Mr. Dana,

editor of the New York Sun, and Henry "Ward Beecher, of

the Christian Union, are going to publish against you in their

papers."

In amazement I looked at Keatinge, to see if he was in his

right mind. His face had assumed an expression as of indig-

nation against such an unheard-of plot, and deep sympathy for

the injustice to me seemed also to appear in his face. I re-

plied

—

'* I don't understand you, sir. No one living can say aught

against my reputation and speak truly. "What do you mean,

sir?"

In an extremely agitated manner, he replied

—

220 FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

" But, my clean, don't you know that the Catholics will per-

jure themselves if they can crush you by so doing? They

have failed to assassinate you, and now the most effectual

means to silence you is to blast your reputation, which they

cannot fail to do by their perjury. They are the power ; con-

sequently the public will not uphold a weak, defenceless girl

after she is crushed by such a formidable enemy. And now,

my deah, I do tremble for you. Your only safety is to leave

this accursed country and come with us to England. As a

literary man I have great influence, and will defend you by

meeting their attack before we leave for England."

" Sir, falsehood can never crush truth. God reigns, and in

Him I trust ; therefore I have no fear, and your proposition to

leave this country and go to England is preposterous. It is

only the guilty who flee ; but conscious of my own innocence

I do not shrink from any unjust persecution. I have already

been slandered and calumniated, but remain unharmed, while

the retribution falls upon those who seek my destruction."

" But, my poor deah, you do not realize the damning extent

of the plot, nor the vile things they will publish about you ! I

have seen them, hence my anxiety to ward it off to some ex-

tent."

" Sir, it appears very strange to me that Catholics confide so

much in you whom, you say, they so cruelly persecute. I can-

not understand why they divulge to you their plots."

" Oh, my deah ! but don't you know that it was not from

Catholics I found all this out, but from Mr. Dana of the Sun,

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 221

and Mr. Beecher of the Christian Union, who have it ready

for publication, and who showed to me the sworn statements."

" Very strange, sir ! but if what you say is true, I will bear

it. God is my defense."

" Now, my deah, I have not yet told you all. I have more

bad news for you coming from another source, and which I fear

will pain you most. I heard that you were engaged to be

married to Professor William Auffray—well, deah, when the

damnable plot of the Catholics came to my kuovvledge I thought

your only safety wras in marriage, so, deah, out of the purest

interest and earnest desire to save you, I made it my business

to go myself and see Prof. Auffray and make known to him

your danger. Accordingly, last night I went to see him, and

explained to him the plot against you. I entreated hini that

if he really loved you he would marry you at once, and thus

avert in a measure the suffering which threatened to crush you.

I spoke highly of your noble qualities, and told him he ought

to feel highly honored to marry you under any circumstances

;

but, my deah, a third party had been to him and to the Rev.

D. C. Lewin, Principal of the college, defaming you, and Prof.

Auffray had resolved to break off his engagement with you."

" There, sir, stop ! I cannot credit all this ; who authorized

you to go to Prof. Auffray ? he is a stranger to you."

" Now courage and patience, my deah girl ! Professor Auf-

fray is not a stranger to me. I know him to be a French vil-

lain of the deepest dye."

" Dr. Keatinge, I will not allow you to speak thus of a man

whom I know to be the very soul of honor, and whose nobility

222 FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

of character has redeemed his sex in my estimation. You in-

sult me to speak thus of one whom I love, esteem, and re-

spect."

" Oh, my deah girl ! listen to me, and understand that I am

your only true friend, and as such I warn you against this self-

ish Frenchman ; and to convince you of this man's perfidy, it

was Prof. Auffray who requested me to come here to-day, and

in his name ask you to release him from his engagement, as he

could not marry such a vile woman as you are. He does not

wish to see you again, but requests that you return his letters,

portraits, all."

Keatinge seemed so earnest and sincere that I could no

longer doubt. Naturally simple and unsuspecting, it never oc-

curred to me that Keatinge's words were all false inventions,

and I replied

:

" Indeed, sir, I am completely bewildered and mystified by

all the strange things you have spoken to me to-day ; and I

must reflect and have an explanation from Prof. Auffray him-

self, before I take any such step as to break off an engagement

which gave him so much happiness to make."

" My deah, he is not worthy of you ! Oh, if you only knew

what I know about that man, you would not hesitate one mo-

ment ! " And then he proceeded to slander Professor Auffray,

until I compelled him to desist, at the same time telling him I

would write and have an explanation from that person. In

great excitement he replied

—

" Oh no, my deah, you must not do that upon any account

;

you will endanger your reputation beyond repair if you either

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 223

write to him or see him again, except to send a short note

breaking the engagement. Now, deah girl, for your reputa-

tion's sake follow my advice, and give me such a note now,

which I will send to him."

" I cannot now, Dr. Keatinge, I am too much astounded, and

need some reflection."

" No, my deah, you must do it now—before I go. Be a true

woman, and let him see you can live without him. Give me

pen, ink, and paper, and I will dictate it." He went to mywriting desk on the table, helped himself to note paper, and

thus wrote

:

"Jersey City, June 13, 1870.

Sir:—After Dr. Keatinge's visit this morning you will not

be surprised to know that I disclaim all further acquaintance

with you. I request the return of my letters and portraits,

upon the receipt of which I will forward your own. Any fur-

ther explanation, of course, is unnecessary.

Respectfully,

Edith 0'Gorman."

This note I copied mechanically, and blindly gave it to him,

after which my pent-up feelings gave vent to convulsive weep-

ing. Keatinge seemed affected in witnessing my distress, and

said

—

" Now, my dawling, dry up your tears, and come with me

to-day to Scraalenberg, to my house. Do not grieve about

that bad man, but thank the Lord you are free from him before

it was too late. Oh, my dawling, I wish it were in my power

224 FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

to offer you a husband's protection. My deah, do you not

know that I am not really married to my wife ? I do not love

her. I never loved a woman but a nun in Home, who was •

another such a Madonna as you ! O dawling Edith ! I do love

you," and he took my hand and kissed it, at the same time at-

tempting to kiss my brow.

'I could scarcely credit my senses at this turn of affairs, but

'fully aroused to indignation I demanded an explanation of his

language and action. Abashed and ashamed, he replied

—

© CD

" My deah child, you entirely misunderstand me. I kissed

you only as a deah brother who is willing to protect you with

his life ; and it is in the purest sympathy I tell you the secret

love of my heart, in order that my unhappiness may modify

your own. But deah child, I would not act dishonorably for

all the world. I am your only friend, and would shelter you

from the fury of your enemies at the expense of my life. Oh,

deah child, do not, I pray, misunderstand me !"

" Leave me now, sir ! I must go to my God in prayer, I am

so shocked, bewildered, confused." I knelt down in a corner

of the parlor to pray. Keatinge came and knelt down beside

me, and placing his hand upon my bowed head, he commenced

to say something about " this deah afflicted child." When I

heard his voice, then a feeling of intense loathing came over

me ; it seemed to me that a fiend in human form was mocking

God with prayer. I instantly arose from my knees, request-

ing him to go away as I wished to be alone. Mrs. Dunning,

who had been a silent auditor and spectator throughout the

scene now made her appearance, and asked an explanation

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 225

from Keatinge. He told Mrs. Dunning he was trying to save

me from the plotting of my enemies, and if she was a true

friend to me she would never permit me to see Professor Auf-

fray again, etc. Keatinge then departed after accomplishing

the fiendish work of making us truly miserable. He promised

Mrs. Dunning he would call again on Thursday with the evi-

dences for all his statements. After he had gone, Mrs. Dun-

ning said to me, " Edith, if there is any plot against you, Dr.

Keatinge is the only plotter. I know every thing he told you

is false, and I shall go myself and see Professor Auffray, who

I know is a noble and true gentleman. Edith, why were you

so silly as to copy Dr. Keatinge's note and break off the en-

gagement ? Don't you know he seeks your destruction ? and

what is his object in asking you to go home with him, but only

to ruin your reputation."

" Oh, Mrs. Dunning, I don't know what it all means ! I am

so bewildered and mystified I must pray, pray !"

Mrs. Dunning went herself to the Eclectic Collegiate Insti-

tute, Brooklyn, and found Professor Auffray in the deepest

mental trouble. He came to see me early Wednesday morn-

ing, and told me some things about Keatinge, which I will con-

dense. Keatinge went on Monday evening to the Institute

where William Auffray was resident Professor at that time, and

remained all night. He never ceased to slander me from eight

in the evening until two in the morning before Professor Auf-

fray and Rev. Mr. Lewin. He told them he had known me

ten years, and represented me as the vilest woman on the face

of the earth ; called me an intriguing adventuress ; told them

22S FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

I had gone on my knees to him, and begged him to go to Pro-

fessor Auffray and ask him to marry me, and a number of

other such vile and malicious falsehoods, just as he had mis-

represented Professor Auffray to me. He tried to get Pro-

fessor Auffray to write to me and break off the engagement

between us, but therein he did not succeed as well as he did

with me. Professor Auffray told him that he did not believe

him, and that even though I was all that he said, nevertheless he

would marry me because he loved me, and his heart told him

I was a true, pure woman. I told Professor Auffray all the

events of Keatinge's visit to me. I clearly saw his fiendish

plot to work out my destruction if he had succeeded in his

design of separating Professor Auffray and myself, and induced

me to go to his home in Scraalenberg.

Thursday morning Keatinge was expected to come again.

I called in Mrs. Hall, an elderly lady of high respectability in

the Methodist church, in order that she might be a witness to

the interview. Professor Auffray also came to confront Keat-

inge with his falsehoods, but urgent duties called him away

before that person's arrival. At one o'clock P. M., the trio,

Gertrude, Keatinge and his wife, made their aj^pearance. Mrs.

Dunning, Mrs. Hall, and myself met them in the parlor where

they still remained standing when I entered. Keatinge, with

a diabolical smile, came toward me with both hands extended

to greet me ; but drawing back from him I calmly said

:

" No sir, you cannot touch my hand : I have discovered

you to be a malicious inventor of plots and falsehoods, and I

shall make you prove all the vile calumnies you have heaped

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 227

upon me in the presence of Professor AufFray, whom you

thought I would never see again. The only plot against me,

Sir, is in your own evil heart. But you are foiled, thank

God." He was extremely confused, changed color, and made

a stammering effort to say something when I turned toward

his wife and said

—

" Your husband says, madame, that he is not married to you,

and he wishes he could offer me a husband's protection ; he

called me his ' darling love ' and kissed me."

Keatinge's countenance assumed the livid hue of death, as

he approached me with his hand so clinched that the nails

penetrated the flesh, and shaking one of them in my face he

fiercely shouted

—

" You're a damnable liar !"

Mrs. Dunning then stepped up to him and said,

" No Sir, she is not a liar, you did kiss her, and make love

to her, for I heard and saw you myself—and don't you dare

to deny it, sir !"

With the most fiendish expression, and fairly jumping in

rage he hissed forth from his gnashing teeth,

" You are all damnable liars;plotters and wretches. Come

wife, let us get out of this den of ." I replied, " Go, sir !

you are worse than an inquisitor."

Once more placing his clenched hand in threatening attitude

over my head, he hissed

—

" I am a Roman Inquisitor, and I will join the Catholics to

damn you ! I will pursue you to the death ! and strip you of

all your friends by slandering you to the public,"

228 FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

" You cannot injure me, Sir. I possess that of which the

whole world cannot deprive me, the peace of a good con-

science."

He then rushed frantically out of the house swearing all

manner of vengeance upon me, while his miserable wife accom-

panied him. I can only compare her to a faithful dog follow-

ing a wicked master, and in my inmost heart I pity her. Mrs.

Dunning. Mrs. Hall. Gertrude, and the two servants of the

house heard him make the above threats to me. I have never

seen him since, but I heard in a few weeks afterward that Dr.

Gordon had turned liim away from Scraalenberg, as an impos-

tor and a humbug.

The next thing I heard of him is in Boston, accompanied

with a great nourish of trumpets. All the leading clergymen

of Boston indorsed his appearance, by signing their names to

the testimonials, which appeared in the newspapers June 23d,

1870, expressing their satisfaction with " the letters he had in his

possession, with the great seal of the Eomish Church attached,

testifying to his faithfulness, good character, and ability." How-

ever, while in the midst of his infamous trickery toward the

Boston Clergy, his true character was partially disclosed in

the following manner. Mrs. H. M. Dunning wrote a full ac-

count of Keatinge's falsity to her sister, who is the wife of Mr.

J. P. Magee, a gentleman connected with Zion's Herald, 38

Bromfield Street, Boston.

When Mrs. Magee heard of Keatinge's appearance in Bos-

ton, she took Mrs Dunning's letter to Dr. G. Haven, editor

of the Zion's Herald. Keatinge happened to be in the office,

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 229

and the ministers charged upon him, with the contents of the

letter. Humiliated by this unforeseen turn of affairs, Keat-

inge poured forth a volley of invectives against me, accusing

ma of being guilty of all manner of crimes, and indulging in

the most vituperative language ; he called me " vile impostor,

liar," etc. Very unbecoming a christian minister indeed, were

his expressions against myself. To all who heard him revile

me I am personally a stranger, and I know not what effect

his bitter and unmanly denunciations had upon those who heard

them ; but I do know that falsehood cannot outlive truth, and

his evil slanders can do me no real harm.

In Boston he was sustained in his course by Gertrude, whom

he had completely blinded, and who had become infatuated

with him. However, she cannot fail to discover his baseness

sooner or later, as all do to their sorrow who have any deal-

ings with him. I cannot speak with certainty of the exact

career of this man, because there is no credence to be placed

upon his words. I know from good authority that he was

turned out of the Episcopal Church in Briar Cliff, on the Hud-

son River, so has he also been turned out of the Dutch Re-

formed Church in Scraalenberg, N. J. He has never thorough-

ly connected himself as a member with any Christian Church

since he left the Romish Church. He practices consummate

deceit upon all sects. I know not among what religious body

he will next make his debut. I am sure he was at some period

a Roman Catholic priest, hence his great villainy, and accord-

ing to the Church of Rome, " Once a priest, always a priest

according to the order of Melchisedec," which is on a par

230 FALSEHOOD UNMASKED.

with, " Once a rascal always a rascal," according to the other

order.

Keatinge was employed a while in the office of the Christian

Union, which now denounces him, as very clearly appears in

the following paragraph winch was published in the edition of

November 5th, 1870

:

An Impostor.

" Within the past few weeks we have received many inquir-

ies from persons in New England, who felt themselves ag-

grieved or in doubt concerning one T. O. R. Keatinge, formerly

a writer for the Christian Union. More than three months

ago we expressly withdrew all endorsement from Keatinge by

an editorial paragraph. As we learn, however, that he still

appeals to his former connection with this paper as a voucher

for his character, a further statement on our part seems desira-

ble. We therefore say explicitly that we are fully convinced,

upon the amplest evidence, that Keatinge is an impostor and

utterly unworthy of trust. We also call attention to the cards

below, signed by several responsible gentlemen. The atten-

tion of New England papers is especially called to this state-

ment, as Keatinge seems to be at present carrying on his ope-

rations in that section of the country."

The last I heard of his impositions is, that he is getting sub-

scriptions to the amount of several hundred dollars towards a

paper he is going to edit in Portsmouth, N. H. I now warn

the public against him. References as to his true character

can be had by applying to the heads of the Episcopal church

FALSEHOOD UNMASKED. 231

at Briar Cliff, N. Y., to Rev. Dr. Gordon, of Scraalenberg, N.

J., to Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, and Mr. Kennedy of the

Christian Union, and to Professor Auffray at Jersey City, and

to several others besides who have suffered from his treachery

and falsehood.

I unmask this man from a strict and conscientious sense of

truth and justice, and not from any petty spirit of vindictive-

ness, because I harbor none against him. In my very soul I

pity him as an intelligence lost to all truth. Although this

man may revile and persecute me, still as a christian I com-

mend him to the mercy of a God, who is willing to forgive the

deepest dyed sinner if he turn from Ins evil ways, and with

a contrite heart worship Him in spirit and in truth.

CHAPTER XXX.

MY MARRIAGE.

'"'

?.<«zk ye first the kingdom of Heaven and all things else shall "ta

ad led unto you."

Of all human influences that of virtuous love is the sweetest,

as it is the most powerful. The world has nothing to offer

more charming th?,n a pure and happy affection, the sincere

outburst of the strength and desires of the soul. Love, when

it is in harmony with the enlightened and sanctified conscience,

is the richest treasure of our nature. It is Paradise regained.

Such a love now fills my heart, a heart so well constituted to

enjoy it. My heart, winch had been so cruelly tried, so wildly

tossed about, so bitterly betrayed through man's treachery, had

ceased to regard the whole sex, nave in the most distrustful and

almost bitter light. I held myself aloof from men, and merely

tolerated their presence. I had shut them out from my heart,

and in its secret chamber I firmly resolved no man should ever

enter to disturb its peace by an unhallowed love. My heart

craved something disengaged from mere earthly and selfish sen-

timent ; in a word, my heart sought moral perfectness in man,

which was something brighter and nobler than the world had

(232)

MY MARRIAGE. 233

ever exhibited to me, and I had ceased to think it possessed

such. However, God, who hath already showered down upon

my soul innumerable Divine blessings, deluging it in an ocean

of heavenly peace, had also reserved for me a new and delight-

ful human existence.

Professor William Auffray crossed my path, and his honest

nobility of soul influenced and filled my heart, permeating my

being with a new life, a new love, a new happiness. His is a

character, to me, singularly grand and beautiful. His naturally

keen and progressive mind, strengthened by earnest culture,

and developed in a wide range of practical and scientific at-

tainments, shook off the trammel of the Church of Rome, in

whose theology he had graduated. His strong intellect, keenly

analytical, and combined with the severest moral philosophy,

could never succumb to the inevitable depravity of such a sys-

tem as the Romish priesthood, a system that makes vows of

celibacy but not of chastity ; therefore he threw off the yoke

of Rome, with its train of evils. His talents could not be

smothered within the narrow limits of superstition and tradi-

tion. After rebelling against Romish ordination, he was two

years professor of Belles-lettres in the University St. Mande*,

Paris ; after which he came to this country, and has now been

here three years. He entered the General Theological Sem-

inary in New York, and was received, on the 17th of June,

1869, a candidate for holy orders in the diocese of New York,

and at the present time he is an assistant in the French Epis-

copal Church Du St. Esprit, (where the learned Dr. A. Verren

is pastor, and so has been for over forty-two years), Twenty-

234 MY MARRIAGE.

Second St., New York. However, a mind like his cannot be

at home among ritualism in any form. William AufFray, at

twenty-eight years of age, gave to me the first true love of his

heart, which my whole nature reciprocated, and to him I was

joined in the holy bonds of wedlock on the 18th day of August,

1870, by Rev. II. A. Cordo, paster of the North Baptist Church,

Jersey City.

Dear readers, how beautiful, how real, how near the heaven-

ly is the enjoyment of such h union ! All the charms and

pleasures of home, and the unspeakable delights of newly wed-

ded love, are realized by us. The perfectly married pair is

indeed the perfect type of the I <ord's Church. The center and

throne of love's sweetest, highest power are in our home of

wedded bliss—a beautiful paradise where, partaking of the tree

of life and communing sweetly w:.fh God, we enjoy each other's

love. And how can it be otherwi?? with such a husband ? he

is so good, so excellent in nature an.l character. To the truest

and tenderest sensibility are added indomitable decision and

dauntless courage, blended with a c^lm, practical judgment,

great patience, and a beautiful simplicity and modesty, while

suffusing all his character with a heavenl light is a living and

controlling piety. He is a philosopher in thought, a hero in

action, a child in feeling and simplicity, and a Christian in his

daily life. To me he is both the giant oak that battles with

the storm, and the gentle vine, with its green leaves anc* purple

clusters ; he makes sweet alike zephyr and storm. Powerful

and handsome in person, elegant and gentle in manners, win-

ning in conversation, ardent and affectionate in nature, he is

MY MARRIAGE. 235

well calculated to make a most loving, tender, and devoted hus-

band. Truly God was good to me when he gave me William

Auffray as the strong, safe pilot to guide my frail little bark

into the haven of rest ; where, anchored in his heart, so brim-

ful of love, I am sheltered and safe at last from all the storms

and tempests and whirlpools.

Thanks, my God 1 1

CHAPTEE XXXI.

CONCLUSION.

In the Roman Catholic Church, Holy Scripture—God's

word—

i

s trampled under foot, and tradition, which is man's

word, becomes practically and substantially the only and con-

clusive rule of faith. What was it that brought wreck upon

Jerusalem, and occasioned the extinction of all its ancient

grandeur ? Its people preferred the traditions of men to the

commandments of God, and from the moment they began to

do so, corruption grew in strength, and spread its contagion to

the utmost limits of the Jewish race.

The Jews had ecclesiastical authority, outward sanctity, a

succession most legitimate, a gorgeous ritual, the law and

the promises. They had prophets commissioned from heaven

to guide and teach them ; they had a Temple, the glory and the

admiration of the whole earth—but in an evil hour they pre-

ferred the traditions of man to the commandments of God,

and from that moment they experienced and proved the great

truth, that the church which tries to steal a ray from the glory

of God takes a consuming curse into its own bosom. When

the Son of God came to Jerusalem, how did they receive him ?

(236)

CONCLUSION. 237

They who boasted of being the " only true church," exclaimed

u Away with him, away with him !" and at last he was con-

demned to be crucified by a people that declared themselves

the " chosen of the Most High." What consuming and crush-

in <r judgment followed ? The Roman armies concentrated in

hostile array around guilty Jerusalem, and every stone of that

once powerful city cries out in dumb but awful eloquence of

departed glory. And why ? because like the Romish Church,

the people forsook the fountain of living waters, and hewed out

to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that could hold no water !

My dear readers, if you wish to arrest a scarcely less dreadful

national ruin ; if you would stem, under God, the tide and tor-

rent of Romish Superstition which now threatens to inundate

this land of liberty, cleave closely to the Bible, and defend

with your lives its sacred teachings. It is the only revealed

will of God, therefore reject every practice and doctrine which

has no foundation in its sacred volume. If the Church of

Rome would adopt this process, it would at once dissipate the

unauthorized dogmas which lamentably encumber it.

The late ecumenical council of Rome, after a long debate

and much dissension, declared Pope Pius IX to be infallible

;

nevertheless he is now stripped of his temporal power, and the

enlightened world rejoices at the change. This is a severe blow

to that system of superstition, the Catholic Church, and the

present turn of affairs in Italy shows how precarious is the foot-

ing she possesses even in the soil of her ancient domination.

I believe that God's truth will triumph, but I also believe

that as God works by means, so on us devolves the responsi-

238 CONCLUSION.

bility of a diligent and faithful use of the means which He has

placed within our reach. "Whatever those means are let us

use them. Let j>arents in their homes teach Protestant truths,

and keep their children away from Catholic influence. Let

me remind you, especially mothers, to do thus. You have

great power, a mother's influence in her home, when sanctified,

is mighty, therefore, on the mothers of this great nation de-

volves a responsibility which no language can exj^ress.

Investigation and progress will bring jDriestcraft to the sur-

face. The attention of the public has been attracted lately to

the defense of a free school system. On this point of free

education, your children cry out to yield not one inch to the

demands of Jesuistry, therefore never give up your cherished,

noble, free school institutions ; they are the fountains from

which your precious children are to draw the elementary prin-

ciples of intelligence, which must be the basis of their charac-

ter. None fear these schools as do the Roman Catholic priests,

and they would gladly undermine the system ; for in its flour-

ishing they foresee their loosening hold upon the coming gen-

eration. They are making bold efforts, and may yet make

bolder, in order to cheat your children of the blessings of a

free-school education. I trust the Protestants will not suffer

this encroachment without at least a show of resistance.

Again, let the legislature enact laws for the inspection of

convents, in order that they may be open to the censure or ap-

proval of the public ; but as those institutions now exist there

is scarcely no protection or redress for the victims of convent

crimes. Let the prison doors of monasteries and convents be

CONCLUSION. 239

thrown open to their deluded inmates, so that they may re-

turn to a useful and virtuous life in society and the world.

Dear reader, you have patiently followed me from the time

you beheld me filled with all the enthusiastic fanaticism which

the potent priesthood of a dazzling hierarchy could inspire in

an ardent and deluded girl. You have seen me sever every

sacred family tie, sacrifice a happy home, and tear myself from

the close embrace of a beloved mother, to place myself on tha

altar of self-immolation. You have sympathized with me

when subject to the unmitigated tyranny, unnatural discipline,

fearful temptations and struggles which beset me in the con-

vent prison. You have seen me penniless and alone in mid-

winter, thrust out upon the mercy of a cold and selfish world,

flying in desperation from convent crimes, and you have had a

faint picture of the desolation, trials, persecution, and heart

struggles which followed. At last after grief and sorrow,

whose weight and extent seem almost incredible, you have re-

joiced in my miraculous conversion, and in the inexpressible

light and heavenly peace of my God-born soul, and in the

wonderful power of grace manifested in my labors ; and you

have been permitted to enter my happy home of wedded bliss,

and partake in spirit of my joy. Gentle reader, in thus accom-

panying me through the sorrow and tribulation, the joy and

gladness of an eventful period of eight years, can you refrain

from exclaiming, " Verily, truth is stranger than fiction."

I have portrayed my experience with a frank truthfulness.

What I have related is, alas, too true. I have given you a

plain, candid, and simple statement of facts, which cannot be

11

240 CONCLUSION.

refuted, and of which the testimony is accessible to all. I have

been solely guided by a sincere desire to rectify wrong and

remove evil, and in this brief account of cruel persecution, I

have neither felt nor experienced vindictiveness, although a

just indignation may here and there have colored my language

with a tinge of reproach when speaking of those who were

chiefly instrumental in producing or adding to my sufferings.

I freely and entirely forgive my enemies, and all those who so

deeply injured me, and pray God to open their eyes that they

may see and appreciate the errors of a system to which I at-

tribute all my sharp experience.

Dear Catholic readers, you must all feel in the inmost recess

of your hearts that every bitter sorrow I have depicted is the

result of a system of religion full of errors and superstition

;

and do you think I deserve to be mobbed and assassinated be-

cause I relate a true and plain statement of facts which have

been developed in my own experience ? Oh, how I yearn to

draw you all into the one safe fold of our only Shepherd, Christ

Jesus, where like me you will be fed at last with the true bread

of life, and cleansed, regenerated, and sanctified by the prec-

ious saving blood of our only Lord.

How can you, with all the enlightening influences of this

free land surrounding you, suffer yourself to be so cruelly

blinded to the true interests of your soul ? A very little faith-

ful examination will-prove to your satisfaction the hollowness

of the services you attend, the insincerity and indifference of

the majority of the persons styling themselves priests who min-

ister before you at the blazing altar. Your own good sense

CONCLUSION. 241

should impress you with the truth that no mere man, much

less a selfish, ambitious, sensual man, as most priests are, can

stand between you and your God. The utmost a minister can

do for you is to help you on the way toward Heaven, by prayer,

counsel, and example ; and this is all good ministers do. There

is but one mediator, God the Son ; the Holy Word on which

Roman Catholicism professes to be founded, can prove no other,

notwithstanding its prayers and invocation to the Virgin and

the great company of saints. Don't allow that book to be

" sealed " from your eyes any longer. You have a right to

consult that which concerns your soul's salvation, and your

individual responsibility compels you to examine and judge for

yourself: " Search the scriptures, they are they which testify

of me," is a direct injunction of our Heavenly Father.

The' cunning Roman clergy, knowing too well the results of

a careful reading of God's word, endeavor to keep it beyond

your reach ; they would not have you enlightened by its pure

teachings; they would not lose their blinded, superstitious

followers !

And now dear readers, sad and sorrowful as has been my ex-

perience, yet I would not have it otherwise. I now bless the

hand that hath chastened me so severely, for only through the

fiery furnace of tribulation could I have tasted the ineffable

sweetness of the children of God. Through no other means

could I have been strengthened, and purified to •labor in the

Lord's vineyard. Dear readers, I will now lay down my pen,

to resume it again when Providence directs. Truly the "Lord

242 CONCLUSION.

hath drawn me up out of the terrible pit and placed my feet

upon a rock, and put a new song upon my lips."

The midnight woe that I 've been through was but the

cross to save,

My Saviour too, was crucified,

And dying, he forgave.

Dear readers, ere I say farewell, I would ask your prayers

to accompany me in my sojournings until the will of God be

accomplished in me.

APPENDIX BY THE PUBLISHERS.

Note.—The remarkable work from which the follow-

ing pages are reprinted, is entitled, " The History of

Auricular Confession ;" it was written in French by a

nobleman of France, Count C. P. de Lasteyrie ; it was

translated into English by an officer of the University

of France, Professor Charles Cocks ; and it was published

in London, in 1848, by a bookseller of the highest re-

spectability, Richard Bentley, publisher in ordinary to

Her Majesty. The work is full of terrible facts in re-

spect to Roman Catholic priests, monks, and nuns. The

2d book treats of " confession in its relation to moral-

ity ;" and the part here reprinted, comprises the 4th

and 5th chapters of this book, which are derived from

authentic and official records. Other chapters detail

flagrant immoralities practiced in Spain, France, &c. ;

but these two chapters are sufficient to show the devel-

oped fruit of the papal system. They are reprinted

word for word from the London edition, with the omis-

sion of the Italian notes there given, and the insertion,

in brackets, of one or two translations of Latin and

French expressions.

(243)

244 APPENDIX.

DEBAUCHERY AND IRREGULARITIES INTRODUCED BY MEANS

OF CONFESSION INTO THE NUNNERIES OF TUSCANY.

It is easy for monks and depraved priests to seduce, by the

means of confession, especially among the lower orders, females

who live in the world ; the tiling becomes still more so rela-

tively to the nuns or pensionnaires confined in convents. De-

pravity introduced into those houses spreads like an epidemic,

with symptoms and consequences more or less fatal, according

to the nature and inclinations of individuals.

This species of wickedness, as I have had opportunities of

convincing myself from information derived from different

journies in Italy and Spain, is less uncommon than is sup-

posed, especially in countries w7here the priests, and principally

the monks, have much influence, and enjoy the consideration

of the people. Most of the seductions that take place in what

is called the tribunal of penitence, remain unknown to the

public, even when denunciations, avowals, or still more positive

results, exhibit proofs, either to families, or to the superior

ecclesiastics, whether regular or secular. For, on the one

hand, the honour of the persons compromised and that of their

parents ; and, on the other, the interests of the Church, and

even an ill-understood reserve, which civil authority thinks

proper to use on these occasions, as well as the impunity

usually attached to so great a crime, are so many causes that

prevent it from coming to the knowledge of the public ; which,

of course, renders it still more common.

APPENDIX. 245

We could cite, in support of what has just been said, and in

confirmation of what will follow, several facts which occurred

in the convents of Paris before the revolution of 1789, and

particularly in the abbey of Pentemont, where, having been

introduced by college companions, engaged in the ecclesiastical

profession, we were able to judge, ex auditu et visu [from hear-

ing and seeing], of the irregularities which prevailed in that

convent. We shall, therefore, remain satisfied, without enter-

ing into any other details, with making known the excessive

depravity that had long prevailed in the convents of Tuscany,

the existence of which has been officially stated by the inves-

tigation made on this subject by order of the Grand Duke

Leopold, and by the care of the pious and learned Ricci,

bishop of Pistoia. We derive what follows from the facts,

acts, correspondence, and orders of Leopold, concerning this

affair, and which, remaining in the possession of the family of

Ricci, have been communicated by them to M. de Potter, who

has reproduced them in a work entitled " Vie de Scipion de

Ricci, eveque de Pistoic et Prato [Life of Scipio de Ricci, bish-

op of Pistoic and Prato], (Bruxelles [Brussels], 1825, 3 vol.

8vo.) The monachal libertinism, introduced into convents of

Tuscany by means of confession, dated from a period very

anterior to the reign of Leopold. For more than a century

and a half, the dissoluteness of the order of the Dominicans

had excited reproach and public dissatisfaction. The spiritual

direction practiced by the monks towards the nuns, was a

source of scandal which was maintained and fomented by in-

terest, dissipation, and vicious habits. We find, in 1642, a

24G APPENDIX.

petition addressed to the grand duke of that period, and signed

by the holy standard bearer {gonfalonier), and other persons

of Pistoia, to the number of one hundred and ninety-four.

Therein, they begged that a sj^eedy remedy might be provided

for the indecent conduct of the monks in the convents of Saint

Catharine and Saint Lucia. Even this affair was hushed up,

in order not to compromise the first families of the nobility,

to which these nuns belonged.

This kind of debauchery, which had become excessive dur-

ing the reign of Leopold, was known by means of the inquir-

ies instituted by that prince, in consequence of the denuncia-

tions of two nuns of the convent of Saint Catherine of Pistoia,

who entreated him to save them from the execrable principles

professed by those monks, their directors.

Thus they learnt that the monks used to eat and drink with

the nuns whom they preferred, and that they passed the time

with them in their private cells. The greater part of the girls

used to deprive themselves of all their money and goods, and

would even go without the necessaries of life to enrich their

lovers. " I do not state anything," says Ricci, " of which I

have not proofs." He also remarks that the monks were in

the habit of passing the night in the dormitory of the nuns,

and that this custom had long been observed by the priors and

confessors of the nuns.

The inquiry instituted by Leopold must necessarily, as Ricci

tells us, have made the scandal public, by forcing several per-

sons to reveal the most infamous iniquities authorized by the

confessors and superiors of the Dominicans. Leopold caused

APPENDIX. 247

all the nuns to be interrogated by the lieutenant of police, and

forbade the monks, upon pain of imprisonment, to approach

the monasteries, on account of the depraved conduct of all

those who performed the duties of priors and confessors. It

was discovered that this corruption had been propagated by

the monks in the convents of Florence, Prato, Pisa, Siena,

Perugia, Faenza, &c, &c.

We find, in Leopold's correspondence, a letter that had been

addressed to him by a nun of Castiglione Fiorentino, which

proves that the Dominicans were not the only corrupters of

women. " Our convent," says she, " is under the dependence

and direction of the Franciscan friars (recollets), or minor ob-

servantins, and, consequently, in the greatest laxity and in ex-

treme immorality .... I cannot complain to the provincial ; for

the monks will never listen to anything in complaints of this

kind .... The nuns are obliged to allow such enormous sins to

be committed, if they do not wish to be shut up for life, under

any pretence .... The commissioner is invited to the convent,

and goes with the young nuns into their chambers, with one of

them at a time, or with two at most, if they are such as may

be trusted, and then he locks himself in ... . The monks who

are intimate with the nuns make them bolder than lackeys ....

A few years ago, one was found in the convent during the

night, and the constables came to turn him out !" This nun

terminates her letter by entreating him not to divulge her

name, for, she observes, if what she had just written to the

prince were known, it would be enough to cause her to be

poisoned by her companions, so low were they sunk in vice.

248 APPENDIX.

It may be supposed that amid depravity so generally spread

throughout Italy, the Jesuits were not the only monks whose

virtue had remained intact, and who had not known how to

make use of confession for a vile purpose. Accordingly, an

ecclesiastic of Rome wrote to the bishop of Pistoia ;" I have

been told that it had been known, through private letters, that

the first seducer in the convent of Saint Catherine of Pistoia,

had been a Jesuit. I know of a monastery where a Jesuit

used to practice improper familiarities with the nuns ; he used

to say that by obeying him they did a very virtuous action,

since they showed much repugnance." It appears, moreover,

that this was a practice to which the monks had accustomed

the nuns ; for the Bishop of Pistoia, having presented himself

before some nuns obstinate in vice, in order to restore them by

gentle means to sentiments of virtue, and having told them

that he had brought them the little Jesus, one of them replied

in the most indecent manner.

Six nuns of the convent of Saint Catherine of Pistoia de-

nounced the infamous practices of which their confessors and

superiors were guilty. In this petition which was presented

to Leopold, we find the following facts :" The monks often

come to meet us at the side of the sacristy, of which they have

almost all the keys ; and there is there an iron-grating suffi-

ciently large, where they conduct themselves in the most shame-

less manner."

" If, besides, they find any opportunity of entering the con-

vent, under any kind of pretence, they come and remain alone

in the chambers of such as are devoted to them. All of them,

APPENDIX. 24$

even the provincials, are, more or less, of the same stamp.

They are not ashamed to take advantage of the circumstances

in which they visit the convent, to do the things of which we

have just spoken. They give utterance to brutal maxims,

which suppose an absence of every moral feeling. They are

incessantly repeating that we are to happy in being able to

satisfy all our inclinations. They say that after having left

the world everything is ended with us. They add, that even

the writings of Saint Paul ought to serve to enlighten us.

" All sorts of indecencies are suffered to be committed in the

parlor. Though we often warn them, yet they never prevent

any of the dangerous connections which are formed in the con-

vent, and never make it their duty to interrupt them. Ac-

cordingly, it has very frequently happened, in consequence of

this, that men who had managed, by address, to get the keys

of the house, have entered at night. Such as allow themselves

to be led by their counsels are cherished and protected on

every occasion, and are gratified even in their most extrava-

gant caprices ; the others must resolve to outrage their con-

sciences by following the same course, or to undergo an endless

persecution. This is precisely what is now taking place among

us."

The inveterate corruption that had long existed among the

monks whose duty it was to confess nuns was again stated in

a report made to Leopold, in obedience to his orders, by the

wardens of the Convent of Saint Catherine of Siena, in the

city of Pistoia. After having mentioned in this report several

things which prove the immorality of the monks—as, for instance,

250 APPENDIX.

that they repaired to the cells of the nuns, or remained alone

with them—it is added :" If they administer the consolations

of religion to any dying person, they eat and sleep in the mon-

astery, and they dine with whomsoever they please, even with

the vestry-nuns. Not only are the fathers, priors, and the

present confessors, accused of this negligence and these irreg-

ularities, but it is avowed that the bad conduct of which the

latter have been guilty, had, for a long time, become a habit

with all the friars who were successively destined to perform

these duties."

The depravity of morals, and the licentiousness introduced

into the convents, are further established by the letters which

the prioress of the convent of Saint Catherine, at Pistoia,

named Peroccini, wrote to Doctor Camporini, the rector of

the episcopal seminary of that town. " To answer the ques-

tions you ask me I should require much time, and an excellent

memory to remember the many tilings that have happened

during the twenty-five years that I have spent among monks,

and all those also which I have heard related about them. I

shall not speak of friars who are no more. As to the others

whose conduct is blameable, there are more than you imagine;

among others (here she names nine of them). But why name

any more ? Excepting three or four friars among so many

monks, whether living or dead, whom I have known, there is

not one who was not of the same stamp. They all profess the

same maxims, and their conduct is the same. Their inter-

course with the nuns is of the utmost familiarity. When the

monks come to visit a sick person, it is their custom to sup

APPENDIX. 251

with nuns, to sing, dance, and play with them, and they sleep

in the convent. Their maxim is that God has forbidden hatred

and not love. I affirm that they have the art of corrupting

not only the young and innocent, but even the most circum-

spect and knowing ; and, without a miracle, no one can fre.

quent their company without at length yielding to this species

of diabolical temptation.

" The priests are the husbands of the nuns, and the lay-

brothers of the lay-sisters How many bishops are there

not in the Pontifical States who have also discovered immor-

ality in the convents of their dioceses ? However, they have

never rooted out the evil with which, nevertheless, they are so

well acquainted. They lacked the means of being able to in-

spire some confidence in the nuns, whom the monks make be-

lieve that they who reveal what passes in the interior of the

order are excommunicated. God is my witness that I do not

speak from ill-will. The monks have never done anything to

me personally of which I can complain ; but I cannot help say-

ing, that no order of men is more perverse, and that it would

be in vain to seek for any persons more worthless than they.

Though secular priests are ever so wicked, they can never at-

tain, in any respect, the wickedness of the friars; the artifices

which the monks know how to employ to impose on the world

are beyond all description."

Another nun makes the following declaration. She says

with regard to the solicitations made to her by her confessor

:

" I testified to him the fear and scruples which they excited

within me," He replied :" Must I tell you plainly ? You

252 APPENDIX.

are a precious simpleton. Follow my advice. Only try, and

you will soon thank me for my lessons ; be sure your scruples

will cease." Whenever this same monk paid his visits to the

convent he renewed his attempts to gain Ins object.

" When the Dominicans came among us to assist the sick

they remained whole days together, and entered alone, under

any pretence, into the chambers of certain nuns. They came

every day to the grate, and never spoke to us but in disgust-

ing language, revealing to us the confessions they had heard/"

&c, &c.

" There exists another cursed abuse, which is, that the nuns

choose a husband among the monks when they have scarcely

made their vows."

What appears most revolting in this affair of the convents,

is the conduct and principles of two wicked nuns, who, infected

with the abominable maxims of the Dominicans, had aban-

doned themselves more excessively than their female compan-

ions to the most revolting licentiousness—nay, to the vilest

profanation of what Catholics consider as most sacred.

The facts we relate are scandalous, no doubt ; but the op-

probrium recoils upon those who give occasion to such revela-

tions by their acts, their culpable tolerance, fatal institutions,

and practices likely to foment the passions and to corrupt in-

nocence. It is by concealing iniquities of this kind from the

knowledge of the public, and by securing impunity for them,

under pretence of protecting religion, that they provoke instead

of checking them. The example of chastisement being the

most powerful bar that can be opposed to crime, it is allowing

APPENDIX. 253

it to have its full swing when we do not inflict upon it publicly

the punishment it deserves ; a chastisement the more necessary

as it is very difficult to get at the knowledge of the offence.

The interrogatory of the nuns and other persons who inhab-

ited the convent of Saint Catherine of Prato, took place ac-

cording to the orders of Leopold, and was composed of a com-

mission appointed by Bishop Ricci. It was written entirely

by the hand of Abbot Lorenzo Palli, the episcopal vicar of

Prato, and was signed by all the female inhabitants of the

convent, to the number of fifteen choral nuns, thirteen lay-

sisters, and five boarders. We will not mention the irreligion,

immorality, impiety, or heresy, of which the monks are ac-

cused in this interrogatory—cases which very seldom occur in

the tribunal of confession.

It results from the general depositions of almost all the nuns,

that Sister Buonamici and Sister Spighi, the former aged fifty

and the latter thirty-eight, had endeavored to corrupt the nuns

by indecent and obscene actions. More than half the nuns

depose that Sister Buonamici had behaved scandalously with

her own brother, an Augustin friar and priest .... and that

Sister Spighi had an intrigue with a certain Joam Botello, a

Portuguese Jesuit.

Seven or eight years before, they had corrupted and enticed

into their party three other nuns, one of whom was still a

novice. They used to say to such as they wanted to deprave,

that they had learned in mystic theology the doctrine which

they taught them. It was, indeed, the books of ascetic medi-

tation that had induced or authorized the irregularities of these

254 APPENDIX.

wretched nuns ; they made use of these books to lead their

companions astray, and gave them a sensual interpretation.

(For the sake of decency, and in order not to shock the reader,

we beg to omit the rest of this interrogatory.)

It is difficult to people who are unacquainted with the spirit

of those corporations, to imagine to what an excess the wick-

edness of the monks may be carried, or to conceive how such

irregularities could have existed so long in Tuscany. Even

when they were brought to light by a virtuous prelate, the im-

pudence of the monks was far from being disconcerted. They

were seen to brave the authority of the bishop and that of the

prince, to dissemble their crimes, and persevere in their abom-

inable practices ; and without Leopold's firmness in unveiling

and prosecuting this mystery of iniquity, nothing could have

put an end to it. The obstinate resistance made by these

wretched nuns to the introduction of a more regular course of

life, was owing to the perfidious counsels they received from

the monks, who had accustomed them to a blind confidence and

a boundless submission to their will.

" They used to say," says the Bishop of Pistoia, " that, if they

acted otherwise, they would have incurred the excommunica-

tion fulminated by the holy father Pius V. ; and several of

them were so strongly possessed with this fear, that one of

them, being dangerously ill, never asked for the sacrament to

be administered to her."

TVe find among the papers of Ricci a letter of a nun who

expresses herself thus :" Who could ever imagine how far the

spirit of address and intrigue of the monks can extend, or

APPENDIX. 255

how many artifices, of all kinds, they have at their disposal, to

resist every event ; they are really astonishing. What ! Pre-

tend to struggle against the Sovereign himself! Every time I

think of the trick bf the provincial, to make us take the com-

munion, in order to oblige us afterwards to sign a certificate

stating that we practice the sacraments, and that everything

here is orderly, I cannot recover from my astonishment.

Have not the monks made use of the medium of confession to

discover what we had revealed about them in our depositions ?"

Not satisfied with demoralizing these poor nuns, the monks

managed to be fed and kept by them, by getting from them

all the money they had at their disposal ; this is what we find

from a denunciation made by two nuns of the convent of Saint

Catherine of Pistoia to the Grand Duke Leopold, who express

themselves in these terms :" Most of the nuns deprived them-

selves of all their money and effects, and went without the

very necessaries of life, to enrich their lovers."

But what is not less revolting, is, that the Court of Rome,

though informed of the scandalous immorality that existed in

the convents of Tuscany, and long solicited to apply a remedy,

refused to take, for this purpose, the means it had in its power,

but maintained and protected the monks against all the de-

nunciations brought against them. As late as 1774, Bishop

Alamani had written in these terms to the conclave of the car-

dinals :" Almost all the nuns depose to the immorality and

libertinism of their directors, to the material doctrine and bru-

tal sentiments with which they endeavor to inspire therm'

The memorial or attestation of the nuns who complained of

25 G APPENDIX.

the infamous conduct of the monks had been handed to the

cardinals by order of the bishop.

Ricci says, in Ins Memoirs, " that the Dominican nuns had

several times, but always in vain, had recourse to the holy see

and the superiors of their own order ; but that they had never

received a single word of consolation, or even an answer."

He himself addressed a letter to Pope Pius V., in which he

informs him of the irregularities that were taking place in the

consents under the direction of the Dominicans. He ex-

presses himself as follows in another letter to Cardinal Cor-

sini :" When writing to the Pope, it is not meet that I should

enter into all these infamous details which, if I communicated

them to you, would fill you with horror. Yet, of what ex-

cesses have not those wicked Dominicans been guilty ? The

provincials and priors, instead of remedying so many irregu-

larities, of which the confessors alone were the cause, have

allowed these guilty confessors to have their own way, and

they have plunged themselves into the same iniquities."

The monks had so corrupted the minds and opinions of those

nuns, and had so much influence over them, that the latter op-

posed for a long time an obstinate resistance to the measures

taken by Ricci and the Grand Duke to put an end to this

vileness ; a resistance moreover encouraged by the court of

Rome. " The monks, the nuncios," says Ricci, " and even the

cardinal protector of the order, never ceased assuring them,

either by letter, or through the medium of secret emissaries,

that, if they remained firm, the tempest, with which they were

threatened, would soon be dispelled."

APPENDIX. 257

One of the means which had been employecLto deprave by

degrees these unfortunate nuns, was the reading and interpret-

. ing of those books of mysticism which they are accustomed to

have read to young females in convents, to work their minds

into a state of feverish excitement and fanaticism. We find

in a letter of Mengoni, an abbot, that two nuns misused the

works of the blessed Jean-de-la-Croix and other books on

mystic theology, to entice into sin their fellow-nuns, novices,

boarders."

These seducers passed from lectures to conversations, by

which they gradually led the nuns astray, either during con-

fession, or in the visits they paid them, even to the most im-

moral ideas, and thence to practices the most criminal. In short,

we see, from several other declarations, that the habitual ex-

pressions and actions of those monks tended to corrupt the

persons confined in the monasteries under their direction. We

must not forget a means of corruption employed by the

monks, that of the devotion paid to the sacred heart of Jesus,

repeated every day to fanaticize the ignorant and credulous.

It is right to make the public aware of what kind of supersti-

tion and immorality may be brought about by these absurd

practices, at a time when the Jesuit-sacerdotal party is endeav-

oring to revive, for the purpose of enslaving the minds of the

people, whatever the ignorance and superstition of the middle

ages invented most contrary to the true sentiments and gen-

uine principles of religion.

The abbot Longini wrote to the Bishop of Pistoia, on send-

ing him two engravings representing the Saviour with his

258 APPENDIX.

breast open and his heart in his hand, and said to him :" Here

are the last spoils of the numerous errors of the nun Buona-

mici. The engravings, here enclosed, were given her by at

Jesuit. She was so fond of them, and kept them so carefully,

that she wore them about her. I will not tell your lordship

what abominable idea she had attached to these pictures, &c."

, The facts related in this chapter must demonstrate that the

monkish system, together with that of confession, and a Jesuit-

ical clergy, supported by the anti-national policy of the gov-

ernment, and by that of a clergy devoted to the court of Rome,

are as pernicious to the purity of morals as the tranquillity of

families. We have seen, indeed, to what an extent depravity

had spread, not only among the nuns, but also among the

boarders who belonged to the first families of Tuscany. This

is the fate which awaits those young persons whose improvi-

dent parents, blinded by prejudices or enticed by fashion, en-

trust the future lives of their children to these houses, which

have been instituted and are directed according to principles

of bigotry, superstition, and—what is worse—of Jesuitism.

People may think that it is impossible for such serious irregu-

larities to be introduced at the present day into female con-

vents by means of confession. It is true, the influence of the

secular and regular clergy, and that of the court of Rome,

have not yet attained the necessary degree of power for such

crimes to be committed with impunity, should they happen to

be discovered. Besides, the freedom of the press would expose

them, and stop their course. But it is not less certain that

effects will result from this double system not less fatal to in-

APPENDIX. 259

dividuals than to the whole body of society. For, how can

public vengeance reach crimes whichj for the reasons we have

pointed out, seldom or never come to their knowledge ?

Moreover, the facts which have very lately transpired in

France, as well as what has lately happened in Tuscany, prove

that the evil, as we have just said, will not cease to exist,

although the clergy have lost their ancient privileges, notwith-

standing the abolition of special and secret jurisdictions, and a

greater freedom of the press ; and that, as long as that cause

is not destroyed, its effects must necessarily be ever reproduced.

If there be a country where people ought to be safe from such

outrages it is France, and even Tuscany, where they have

been divulged and branded with infamy in so solemn a manner.

Yet, here is a fact, related by several newspapers in Septem-

ber, 1844:—

Crescioghi, an officiating priest in a parish of the Apennines,

had been accused of outrages upon three young girls. He ap-

peared before the tribunal of justice with the victims of his

crime. Several witnesses inculpated the defendant in the

most serious manner. After having denied Ins crime with the

greatest sang-froid, he at length avowed the principal fact, still

denying, however, the aggravating circumstances. In accord-

ance with the charge delivered by the public minister, the tri-

bunal condemned Crescioghi to five years' seclusion in the Con-

vent of Avergna, the ecclesiastical prison of Tuscany, and,

moreover, to a banishment of twenty years-.

260 APPENDIX.

DEPRAVITY OF THE MONKS, THE CORRUPTERS OF MORALS

IN OTHER PARTS OF ITALY, BY MEANS OF CONFESSION.'

We have related many scandalous facts in the course of this

work ; others will be found in this chapter which are not less

so. It is painful to expose to public view such hideous and

revolting descriptions ; but great evils require strong remedies,

especially at a moment when an attempt is making to cause

institutions and practices so pernicious as monastic and sacer-

dotal confession to prevail in France. People must at length

be made to know the consequences of such a system; public

opinion must be sufficiently struck with the greatness of the

evil to oppose a barrier to this torrent which threatens to in-

vade everything. We must at length warn the public against

this confusion of precepts and pretended religious duties, and

against institutions founded to maintain the power of a foreign

domination.

We have derived the facts we are going to quote from the

proces-verbaux of the Inquisition of a town in Italy, which

were carried off at the time when the French, being masters

of Italy, destroyed that tribunal. They have been communi-

cated to us on condition of mentioning neither the name of the

place nor that of the person from whom we have received

them. We may judge from these facts, which happened in a

small district, and in a rather short space of time, what are the

immoral results of confession throughout Italy, and the ex-

cessive depravity of the monks. For, save a certain number

APPENDIX. 261

of exceptions, we find among the corporations of that country

the same principles and the same morals. We have reason to

believe so, from the special informations we have derived at

different periods, during a rather long residence in that classic

land of monachism.

The registers of the Inquisition which have been communi-

cated to us were very incomplete, and contained only the

transactions of a few years. We have extracted from them

what more particularly concerns temptation inherent in con-

fession. What a mass of turpitude and infamy would be un-

veiled to the public, if it were possible to make them acquaint-

ed with the facts recorded in the registers of the different

countries where the Inquisition has been engaged in these in-

quiries ! Add, moreover, a still more considerable number of

facts, which take place between the guilty parties, without

anybody ever being informed of them.

Here then is an extract of what has appeared to us the most

remarkable, omitting entirely what concerns heresy, bias,

phemy, witchcraft, covenants, and commerce with the devil,

philtres to provoke love, freemasonry, treasure-finding, and

other miserable practices, which betoken the ignorance, super-

stition, and stupidity of the monks and people.

A woman, thirty-seven years of age, named Bartolommea,

the wife of a man named Bracolino, declared to the Inquisition

that father Santozi, of the order of the Servites, had a very

bad reputation, and lived very disorderly with a married

woman.

262 APPENDIX.

She relates, moreover, that this monk, with others of his con-

vent, habitually made use of licentious expressions to women.

A nun, named Ancilla Rei, of the order of Saint Francis,

declared that she had been tempted, at the tribunal of confes-

sion, by the director of her convent, named Fortunato. He

began with telling this nun that he loved her tenderly, and he

used to call her his little dove, nina Colombo,.

A nun, thirty years of age, named Illuminata Guidi, a claus-

tral sister in a convent of Saint Francis, said she had de-

nounced, a few years before, to the tribunal of the Inquisition,

a priest who had tempted her in the confessional for three

years.

We see, from the declarations made by this girl, " for the

acquittal of her conscience," as she terms it, to what a state

seclusion and perpetual celibacy will reduce certain girls. This

unfortunate creature avows that the passion that pervaded her

being was so powerful within her, that, from the age of eight-

een to twenty-nine, she had prayed on her knees all that time,

recommending herself to the most holy Madonna, and saying

Ave Marias, and Pater Nosters, to obtain her intercession for a

purpose which may be understood without a more particular

allusion to it.

Seeing that the prayers to the Virgin did not succeed, she

applied to the devil, saying : Diavolo, fammi venire qualche

persona per peccare. The devil harkened to her prayers. But

we will not detain the reader by relating all the things of

which this unfortunate girl accuses herself before the Inquisi-

tion, and which are merely a mixture of the grossest supersti-

APrENDIX. 2fi:

t,on and the reveries of an imagination led astray by the

knavery of the persons about her, and who conducted them

selves towards her in a manner that I could not relate without

offending propriety.

Margaret Monti, twenty-two years of age, declares that the

priest Turrini had tempted her in the confessional. This priest

having been questioned, on the 22d of June, 1791, answered

that he had been a confessor in the convent of Saint Sebastian

for three years, and that he had made overtures in the confes-

sional, by word and deed, to Sister Gertrude Fantini; that he

had often kissed her through the grating of the confessional,

and that he had commanded her to commit shameful actions.

He accused himself also of having used licentious language to

a woman named Ottavio Paolucci, every time she came to con

fess to him, which happened every week or fortnight;that he

solicited her to love him by calling her endearing names, and

by kissing her through the grating of the confessional;and

all this took place before, during, and after confession;and,

finally, that he had written her an immoral letter. He had

also behaved in the same way to another woman named Mar-

garet Monti.

A maid, aged thirty-three, named Giulia Mattioli, declares

that her confessor, Felice, a monk, aged forty-five, had asked

her several most indecent questions. (Here follow, in the

original, more than twenty depositions of such a nature, that

we

&

would not dare to publish them in any language.)

We suppress several far more abominable facts of the same

kind, which we have found in the proces-verbaux of the Inqui

12

264 APPENDIX.

sition 5 being unwilling to detain the reader any longer in this

monkish mire which we have been compelled to make him pass

through, in order to give him something approaching an idea

of the degree of corruption which exists but too often in both

male and female convents.

In so doing, our chief purpose has been to make known the

evils which may result from auricular confession, and the evils

to which young persons of both sexes are exposed whose edu-

cation is entrusted to monastic corporations. These examples,

as well as those which I relate throughout this volume, and the

induction which must be formed from them, as a proof of the

existence of a great many other facts which pass in the shade

of impenetrable secrecy, ought to induce parents to reflect

seriously concerning the dangers to which they expose their

children, in abandoning the direction of their consciences and

education to associations which, on their re-establishment in

France, have been impregnated, without exception, with the

•"atal principles of Jesuitism.

ROMANISM AS IT IS:

AN EXPOSITION OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC SYSTEM, FOR THEUSE OF THE AMERICAN PEOPLE;

Embracing a Full Account of its Origin and Development atRome and from Rome, its Distinctive Features in Theory andPractice, its Characteristic Tendencies and Aims, its

Statistical and Moral Position, and its Special Rela-tions to American Institutions and Liberties.

By REV. SAMUEL W. BARNUM,Editor of the Comprehensive Dictionary of the Bible.

A Large and Elegant Octavo Volume, Illustrated with One Hundred and Five

Fine, Beautiful Engravings.

This book is eminently a book for the times. It is an exhaustive and

standard work of the highest authority. Its facts are fully supported by

credible testimony; its statistics are the best attainable; and its arguments

are such as are actually used by those who deal with the living questions of

the day. Much of it has been translated directly from the accredited Latin

standards of the Roman Catholic Church, and is entirely new to the American

public. It fully uncovers the Romish system from its - origin to the

present time; exposes its baseless pretenses, frauds, and gross immoralities;

proves its never-ceasing hostility to civil and religious liberty, its opposition to

public schools, its enslavement of the consciences of its subjects, its appropri-

ation of their property, and their powers of body and mind to its own

aggrandizement. It describes faithfully its barbarous attempts to crush and

exterminate, wherever it has had the power, all who refused to submit to

Popish dictation; its destruction of the lives of millions by imprisonment, tor-

ture, burning, massacre, and other modes of fiendish persecution.

All the topics of this work are treated with so much accuracy and thorough-

ness, and so amply illustrated by authentic first-class engravings, as to make

this the one book which the American people now need on this great sub-

ject. It comes home with its principles and facts to every man's door ;it not

only tells him what the Roman Catholics are doing, and aiming to do in this

great country, but it shows their operations and influence in every state, and

city, and district, and clearly indicates the strong tendencies of their manifold

and insidious influences to subvert our free institutions, and ere long place this

country under full Popish tyranny.

The author of this book is a well-known Protestant writer and scholar, who

has for a long time made the subject, in all its bearings, his special study, and

who tells plainly what he knows and can substantiate by abundant proofs.

This book, therefore, Is without a rival in the extent and trustworthiness of

its information on the whole subject of Romanism, and in its thorough adapta-

tion to the wants of the American people.

The following are a part of the many topics of this book

:

1 Rise and Growth of the Pope's Power, Spiritual and Temporal.2 Private and Public Life of Pope Pius IX.3 The Cardinals, Who and What are They?4 Cardinal Antonelli Described.5 The Council of Trent, and its Important Work.6 The Vatican Council of 1869-70 Particularly Described.7 The Comments of the New York Tribune and Catholic World on said Council.8 Celibacy of the Clergy.

9 Interesting Account of the Consecration of Three Bishops in New York.10 Eise and Progress of Monasticism.11 Cases of Forcible Detention in Convents.12 Why Persons Become Nuns.13 Edith 0' Gorman and other Escaped Nuns.14 Character and Influence of Convents and Convent-Life.15 Particular Account of the Jesuits in Europe and America.16 History and Description of the Inquisition, its Tortures, &c.17 The Inquisition Kept Up and Defended in the Nineteenth Century.18 Roman Catholics Excommunicate all Members of Secret Societies, as Fenians

Free Masons, Odd Fellows, Sons of Temperance, &c.19 Recent Persecutions by Roman Catholic Authorities.20 Position of Romanists in Regard to the Bible.21 Romish Policy Respecting Education in this Country.22 School-Controversies in Cincinnati, Boston, and New York.23 How Priests Control some Public Schools in Connecticut.24 Rev. B. G. Northrop's Plea for an Unsectarian School-System.25 Rev. Henry Ward Beecher on the Romish Plan of Education.26 Romish Immorality in Europe and America.27 The Catholic Publication Society's Tract, "Is It Honest?"28 The Mass Fully Described and Emblematically Illustrated.29 Honors Paid to the Virgin Mary, Joseph, and other Saints.30 Protestant View of the Homage to Saints, Relics, Pictures, &c.31 Churches and Cathedrals in Europe and America, Illustrated.32 The Bishop's Ownership and Control of Church-Property.33 How Money is Raised and Managed in the Roman Catholic Church.34 Romish and Protestant Views of the Right of Private Judgment.35 Power Assumed and Used by Popes, Bishops, Priests, &c.36 Protestant View of the Moral Influence of Romanism.37 Hostility of Romanism to Libertv in Europe and America.38 Instances of Mob-Violence in Canada, the New York Riots, &c.39 Influence of the Romish Church in this Country and Elsewhere.40 Great Increase of Romanists in the United States since 1790. How?41 Rise, Progress, and Persecutions of Christianity.42 Rome under the Popes from 1278 to 1870.43 Panorama and Description of Modern Rome.44 St. Peter's, with a Fine View of its Interior.45 St. John Lateran, and other Principal Churches of Rome.46 Palaces of Rome, the Vatican, Quirinal, &c.47 Other Remarkable Objects in the City.48 Rome's Industry, Population, and Condition under Papal Ride.49 Protestant View of the Roman Catholic Church and System.50 Cardinal Wiseman's Account of the Roman Catholic Church.51 The Newly-Defined Doctrine of the Immaculate Conception.52 Vatican Decree of the Pope's Supremacy and Infallibility.53 Was Peter at Rome and Bishop there ?54 The Crusades and the Canon Law.

55 Gregory VII, and other Noted Popes of the Past.

56 The Popes of the Nineteenth Century Particularly Described.

57 List of the Popes from Peter (?) to Pius IX.58 The Pope's Allocutions, Bulls, Briefs, Encyclical Letters, &c.59 The Roman Court, its Officers, Congregations, &c.60 The Twenty, or more, Ecumenical Councils of the Roman Catholics.

61 Quarrels about the Supremacy of Popes or Councils.

62 The Seven Orders of the Clergy, their Duties, &c.63 The Five Degrees of the Priesthood up to the Pope.

64 Occupation of Rome by the Italians in 1870.

65 Excommunication of the King of Italy, &c, by the Pope.66 Addi-ess of New York Catholics to the Pope, Decembei-, 1870.

67 Resolutions and Address to the Government and People of Italy, from the

, Meeting at the New York Academy of Music, January 13th, 1871.

68 The Various Articles of Clerical Dress Fully Described.

69 Theological Education and Seminaries in the United States, &c.70 Oath ot Conformity and Obedience of Beneficed Priests, Professors, &c.71 Bishops, How Appointed in the United States, Their Oath and Power.72 Statistics of Romish Priests and Theological Seminaries in the United States.

73 Names of the Archbishops, Bishops, &c, in the United States.

74 Whole Number of Bishops, &c, in the World.75 Description of the Fifty or Sixty Sorts ofMonks Nuns,&c.,in the United States.

76 Convents suppressed in Various Countries of Europe.

77 Attempts to Regulate or Reform the Religious Orders.

78 Ceremony of Reception among the Sisters of Mercy.79 Roman Catholic Missions in Asia, Africa, and America.80 College of the Propaganda, Leopold Association, &c.81 Roman Catholic and Protestant Missions Compared.82 An Auto da Fe Illustrated and Described.

83 The Fourth Lateran Council's Canon on Persecution still a Law.84 Crusade Against the Albigenses of France.85 Massacres of the Waldenses Described and Illustrated.

86 Graphic Account of the St. Bartholomew Massacre.87 Differences in Persecution by Romanists and Protestants.

88 Opposition and Hatred Towards the "Protestant" Bible.

89 The Vulgate and Douay Versions Described.90 The Douay Bible and Notes Compared with the English Bible.

91 Bible-Burning in the United States and Other Countries.

92 The Missal, Breviary, and Other Service-Books.93 Matins, Lauds, Vespers, and other " Canonical Hours."94 The Seven Sacraments.95 Baptism, Confirmation, and Extreme Unction Explained.96 Regulations Respecting Matrimony, and Form of Marriage.97 Description of a Procession with the Host in Antwerp.98 Church Terms and Articles Defined and Illustrated.

99 The Rosary Described and Illustrated.

100 The Carnival, Lent, Easter, and other Festivals, Fasts, &c.101 Mode of Confession and Absolution.102 The Confessional Described and Illustrated.

103 Alleged Advantages and Known Perils of Confession.104 Penance, Satisfaction, Mortal and Venial Sins.

105 Excommunication in its Three Forms, and Absolution From It.

106 Doctrine of Purgatory, and the Use Made of It.

107 The Council of Trent on Indulgences, with Explanations.108 Four Specimens of Indulgences, granted in 1517, 1843, 1854, and 1862.109 Protestant View of the Theory and Practice of Indulgences.110 The St. Louis Church in Buffalo and Bishop Timon.111 Legislation in New York, &c, Respecting Church-Property.

112 pases of Galileo, Lamennais, Hyacinthe, Farrell, Dollinger, &c.113 Gallican Views of the Pope's Prerogatives Condemned.114 Does Romanism Favor General Intelligence and Prosperity?115 Comparative Prosperity of Romish and Protestant Countries.116 Romish Periodicals, Bookstores, and Publications in the United States.

117 General Character of Irish Catholic Laborers.118 Liquefaction of St. Januarius's Blood, and other Miracles (

'?).

119 Losses in the United States by Conversions to Protestantism, &c.120 Gains in England and Scotland, and Losses in Ireland.

121 Losses on the Continent of Europe, in Mexico, Canada, &c.122 Loss of Power in the World.123 Full Statistics of the World, from Romish and Protestant Authorities.124 What we Conclude after Hearing Both Sides.

125 Elements of Strength and of Weakness in the Romish System.126 Duties and Encouragements of American Protestants.

DESCRIPTION OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

A Beautiful Panorama of Rome, fully explained.An Accurate View of the Grand Interior of St. Peter's.

The Alleged Chair of St. Peter's.

Eight Engravings of the Pope, his State Carriage, Chair, Tiara, and Keys, withthe Signature and Anns of Pope Pius IX.

A Cardinal in Full Dress.

An Authentic Full-page Engraving of a Bishop Taking the Oath.Arms of the Archbishops of Baltimore and New York.Seven Engravings of Monks and Nuns.Passionist Monastery, opposite New York.A University, and Two female Seminaries in the United States.

Four Engravings of Different Modes of Martyrdom.An Authentic Copy of the Celebrated Bartholomew Medal, bought at the Pope'sMint twenty-five or thirty years ago.

Thirty-six Illustrations of the Service of the Mass.Nearly Thirty Illustrations of Sacred Utensils and Articles, as the Bishop's Crosier,

Chalice, Ciborium, Font, Ostensory, Pyx, Rosary, Scapular, Processional Cross,Image of Christ on St. Veronica's Handkerchief, &c, &c.

A Correct Representation of a Confessional.Four Engravings Illustrating an Indulgence granted in 1843.Two Fine Engravings of Roman Catholic Churches in this Country.

Connecticut Publishing- Co.,

HARTFORD, COIVIV.

Agents wanted in every Town and County in the United States.

Table of Contents.

I. The City of Rome and its Connections.

II. General View of the Roman Catholic Church or System.

HI. The Pope and his Sovereignty.

IV. The Pope's Allocutions, Bulls, and other Official Communications.

V. The Cardinals and Roman Court.

VI. Ecumenical Councils.

VII. The Clergy.

VIII. Religious Orders—Monks, Nuns, &cIX. The Jesuits.

X. Missionary Operations and Societies.

XL The Holy Office of Inquisition.

XII. Persecutions.

XIII. The Bible.

XIV. Churchly and Devotional Exercises, Articles, and Terms.

XV. Honors paid to Saints, Relics, Pictures, Images, &c.

XVI. Holy Days.

XVII. Confession and the Confessional.

XVIII. Offences and Penalties.

XIX. Indulgences.

XX. Church Edifices.

XXI. Church-Property and Revenues.

XXII. Denial of the Right of Private Judgment.

XXIII. Assumption and Exercise of Temporal Power.

XXIV. Educational Policy in the United States.

XXV. Relation of the System to General Intelligence and Prosperity.

XXVI. Moral Influence of the System.

XXVII. Relation of the System to Civil and Religious Liberty.

XXVIII. Political and Social Power of the Roman Catholic Church.

XXIX. Conclusion.

-*-

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